


A Winter's Tale

by Catsafari



Series: TCR Christmas Specials [1]
Category: Neko no Ongaeshi | The Cat Returns
Genre: Christmas Special, F/M, Fantasy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 80,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsafari/pseuds/Catsafari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Christmas Special 2011* A wintery client gives the Cat Bureau an unusual task to complete before Christmas Eve. But a little bit of spirit intervention and Christmas spirit puts some magic into this winter's tale. SEQUEL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thursday 1st December 2011

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay, this is my 2011 Christmas Advent Special, for the TCR section. As it suggests, there are a few things:
> 
> 1) There will be a chapter a day uploaded (unless stuff turns up, but I will be keeping to this schedule as closely as possible). There are 25 chapters in total.  
> 2) This is set after the film.  
> 3) Each chapter is set on their respective day; each chapter should last only a day in the story timeline. So today is set the first of December.  
> 4) The chapters are shorter than usual; but since the chapters are being posted daily, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.  
> 5) And enjoy!

_So here it is Merry Xmas_

_Everybody's having fun_

_Look to the future now_

_It's only just begun._

_x_

**Thursday 1 st December 2011: It’s Only Just Begun**

In the Bureau, Christmas had come.

With reinforcements, Baron had noted when a particular brunette had turned up at the archway clutching a box of Christmas decorations and merrily humming carols. It was evening and dusk had fallen, but Haru had still turned up. She had unpacked the box and shown the Cat Bureau the decorations she had smuggled out from her home.

Which was why they were now in the midst of decorating the Refuge; a CD player Haru had brought along spewing out jingling Christmas carols. Muta was in the process of attacking the inside of the Bureau with Baron’s own stash of decorations (Baron wasn’t sure about the wisdom of allowing the fat cat near his hoard) while Toto watched (probably making scathing comments if the commotion from inside was any indication).

Baron, however, was overlooking the application of tinsel to the Bureau’s exterior. Seated on Haru’s shoulder, he couldn’t help thinking he had got the best job.

“Perhaps we should put the red tinsel on instead… it would work well with the green. What do you think, Baron?”

He blinked and tuned in to what the brunette was saying. “Whatever you think is best.”

Haru snorted and held the gold strand up, comparing it to the ruby-red version. “I was hoping for something a bit more _conclusive_ than that, Baron. Help me out here; which one looks better?”

He finally focused on the two strands of tinsel being held up for his benefit. “Go for the red.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Happy with the agreement, Haru leant forward to hook the tinsel over the top of the Bureau and let it spiral down on either side of the miniature house. Tucking it deftlyat the rim so the crimson material didn’t fall over the windows or door, she stepped back to momentarily admire her handiwork before returning back to the box. She carefully set down the figurine before she started rifling through the decorations.

She picked out a faded Christmas star and set it at the top before setting herself to the task of dragging out the Christmas lights.

“Drat, why are the lights always tangled?” Haru exclaimed. “It’s not like I take them out during the rest of the year and throw them about. _Once_ a year. Once a _year_ ; that’s the all they get used…” She continued to grumble good-naturedly, only pausing to listen to a crash from inside the Bureau. She glanced to Baron.

“You don’t supposed they’ve broken anything, do you?”

Baron waited a moment, hearing a few more insults thrown about in the small abode before a smile curved round his lips. “It doesn’t sound like it.” He watched the brunette stretch the Christmas lights across the cobbled pavement of the Refuge in an attempt to make the task of untangling a little easier and his smile widened just a little more. Then a thought struck him.

“Haru, are you going away this Christmas?”

Haru looked up, mildly surprised by the question. “Away? Away where?”

“To see family.”

She laughed a slightly throaty laugh at his reply. It wasn’t quite the response the cat figurine had been expecting. “It’s just me and my mother nowadays. My father left when I was born and his family never approved of Mum so we don’t see them. When my grandparents died when I was young it just left the two of us.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Haru dropped her head back down to carry on straightening the Christmas lights. “Don’t be. If my father couldn’t be bothered to stick around then he has no right to turn up for Christmas. And I can’t remember my grandparents very well so it’s always been this way. Can you miss something you never had?”

“But still…”

Haru knelt down on the pavement and looked over at Baron. “It’s fine, Baron. You don’t need to worry.” A weak smile flittered across her features; a smile that was quickly replaced by forced joviality as she abruptly rose to her feet. “Well, I think that’s the lights sorted out. Now just comes the task of applying them.”

The conversation of Haru’s family had been politely marked out-of-bounds, so Baron didn’t attempt to pick up the topic again. He stayed where Haru had set him down as the girl in question nimbly intertwined the wiry frame of the Christmas lights along the ruby-red tinsel.

“So you said you were originally… um, created in Germany, right?” Haru suddenly spoke up again. Even with White Christmas filling the background silence, it seemed she felt the awkward pause of conversation too. She didn’t give Baron much time to answer; proceeding on with, “So you’ve spent a few Christmases there, right?”

“Yes.”

Momentarily pausing in her tirade on the Bureau, Haru sat back on her haunches to look over at the cat figurine. “What’s Christmas like there?”

Baron took a moment to think through the question before answering. “It’s a little bit different, I suppose. On the fifth, children leave their shoe or boot outside in the evening, and if they’ve been good the spirit of St Nicholas places treats in them.”

“And if they’ve been naughty?”

“They get twigs.”

 There was another crash from inside the Bureau, quickly followed by another outburst of insults. Despite everything, Haru laughed, the Christmas spirit finally catching up with her. “Well, I know two individuals who are going to be getting twigs in their shoes.”

Baron chuckled alongside the brunette. “Indeed. We also have the advent wreath in Germany, and the Christmas tree of course – it originated in Germany. But children are not allowed to help in decorating the tree because of superstition.”

“That’s so unfair.”

The Cat Creation smiled at Haru’s response. “Perhaps it seems that way, but from what I saw of it, it was half the fun to be surprised by the tree. It’s decorated on Christmas evening instead of so much earlier like it is done elsewhere.”

“So I suppose the Bureau won’t be getting a tree until then?”

“Indeed not.”

Selecting out another set of lights and tinsel, Haru moved on to adorn Toto’s column, humming a little to the carols. The Christmas spirit had indeed infected her mood and she had picked herself up from the low she’d experienced earlier. Now finishing her task she stepped back, the plug in one hand, and examined her work. Then she spontaneously started laughing.

“Boy, I can be so _dumb_ at times!”

Seeing Baron’s bewildered look, Haru held up the plug for emphasis, still giggling.

“You don’t have electricity, do you?”

He caught her mistake and chuckled lightly. “I’m afraid not.”

The brunette sighed and ran on hand through her hair. “Do you think I should take the lights down, or would they be fine there until January? It probably _would_ be better to take them down; they look a little depressing just sitting there unlit…”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

Haru looked down to the figurine, her gaze questioning as she watched Baron approach the nearest lights falling past the side of the Bureau.

“Do you remember the first time you arrived here?”

“Of course. But…” Haru’s eyes widened and now she remembered. “Oh.”

He sent a smile her way and took the wiry strand in one gloved hand. A heartbeat passed and suddenly light was spiralling up and spilling into the Christmas lights, overflowing in a spectral of colours. The spark jumped across to the lights braided round Toto’s column and flew down it; the separate colours leaping over one another in a race to the cobbled ground. Eventually the light simmered down to a soothing glimmer, warming the Refuge in its glow.

“That’s so cool,” Haru breathed.

“Thank you.” He had tried to sound composed, but still a slightly satisfied note crept into the words. He looked to his side and spotted one of the lights hadn’t lit up. Frowning he leant over to it and tapped the bulb. Reluctantly a soft blue glow appeared. “There’s always one,” he commented.

Haru was grinning. “Of course.” She looked up at their joint efforts and concluded the effect to be perfect. She told Baron this and earned another smile from the Creation.

“Of course,” he echoed. “Because we did it together.”

Haru just blushed and returned her gaze to the Bureau.


	2. Friday 2nd December 2011

_You’d see that today holds something special_

_Something holy, not superficial_

_So here’s to the birthday boy who saved our lives._

_It’s something we all try to ignore_

_And put a wreath up on your door_

_So here’s something you should know that is for sure,_

_Christmas must be something more_

_x_

**Friday 2 nd December 2011: Christmas Must Be Something More**

Haru couldn’t stop the grin from stealing over her face as she listened to the band playing Christmas carols in the middle of the Crossroads. She probably should have been listening to Hiromi talking, but she was too busy enjoying the overt Christmas spirit.

“It’s ridiculous; I mean, shops start advertising Christmas stuff, like, three months before December. It’s all so commercial nowadays that all anyone seems to think about is the presents. They don’t seem to realise that it’s not all Christmas trees and wreaths.”

“ _Breathe_ , Hiromi,” Haru reminded her friend idly.

The smaller brunette paused for breath and took several irritated gulps of her hot chocolate, still internally fuming. Having stocked up on her oxygen reserves, Hiromi threw herself back into the debate she seemed to have started.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? It’s all been commercialised and–”

Haru decided it was time to add her own contribution. “Are you saying you’re not interested in the presents? Not even a _tiny_ bit?”

Hiromi reddened. “That’s… um… not quite what I meant.”

“Because, you know, I haven’t bought your present yet… I suppose it makes things a lot easier; I won’t have to worry about getting you something.”

“You are so mean!”

Haru stuck out her tongue and went back to sipping her tea. School had ended half an hour ago and now the two girls had taken residence in one of the many cafés dotted on the outskirts of the Crossroads. The tea wasn’t quite as good as she was used to, but then, she _had_ been spoilt by Baron’s own blend. She accepted the fact with a shrug and now decided that perhaps she had been a little too quick in shooting down Hiromi’s rant.

“Perhaps you’re right with the commercial point,” Haru acknowledged, taking another sip of her tea. This time she made a face at the taste and made a mental note to try a different café next time. “But there’s not much you can do about it. I suppose the best thing to do is remember that you know better than the rest of this crazy world and be happy with that.”

Hiromi grinned. “That’s a point.”

Haru grinned back at her friend and added a little more sugar to her cup, hoping in vain that it would magically improve the flavour. Her next sip told her that the contribution had had little – if any – effect. They were _definitely_ going to try a different café next time.

“Are we still going shopping on Monday?” Haru asked. She abandoned the tea, deciding it was doing more harm than good and picked at the complimentary biscuit that had accompanied it. It wasn’t bad… for a freebie, that was.

“If the weather permits it,” Hiromi answered. “I’ve heard it’s meant to rain then.”

The darker brunette grimaced. “Rain? Whatever happened to good old Christmas snow?”

“Hey, we’ve still got the rest of the month for the weather to kick itself into gear. Give it a chance; you can hardly expect December to hit and BAM, hey presto you’ve got snow.”

“It would’ve been nice,” Haru grumbled. She leant back in the chair; one hand curled around her mug and her other stirring the tea with a sort of absent-minded motion. Her mind wandered back to the topic of a certain Cat Bureau with such an ease it suggested that was a well-trodden path. Yesterday had been fun, she concluded. Yes, there had been the rather prickly topic of her family, but that had gone better than she had been expecting. She should have known that sooner or later she would have to admit to Baron the lack of a ‘normal family’. But he hadn’t demanded to know all the ins and outs of the details, apparently content with the brief explanation she had given. She had been very thankful to him for that.

“You’re thinking of him again.”

Hiromi’s rather smug comment jolted Haru out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“You’re thinking of that guy again.” The smaller brunette grinned wickedly. “I can tell from your expression.”

“I’m not… You’re just…There isn’t a guy!” Haru spluttered, nearly spilling her tea in her haste to beat out an answer. She quickly put the cup on the side to prevent any accidents. “You’re just deluding yourself, Hiromi.”

“Uh-huh, of course I am.”

“You could sound a _little_ more convinced,” Haru muttered sulkily.

“Hey, what am I meant to do? I _know_ there’s a guy you’re not telling me about.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just making wild guesses. There isn’t… I haven’t got a crush on anyone.”

“Uh-huh,” Hiromi repeated in the same tone. “And that would explain why you’re blushing.”

Haru groaned and leant her head against the table. “Traitorous blush.”

Her friend, however, looked delighted that Haru had failed to outright deny her accusation this time and sped on with her questions. “So…” she started in a sing-song voice, “who’s the guy? Where does he live? Does he go to our school?” She clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Or is he no longer in school? Are you dating an _older_ guy?”

Haru grudgingly picked up her head, her eyes taking a few seconds to blearily focus on Hiromi. “Sheesh, Hiromi, I haven’t even said that there _is_ a guy.”

Hiromi sighed dramatically and waved it away as if it were nothing. “You as good as did. Now you’ve got to tell me who he is!”

“Why?”

The question didn’t flummox Hiromi. If anything, it seemed to encourage the girl. “One, because I’m your best friend, and we’ve been sharing secrets since _forever_ and two; because I’ve known there’s been a guy for six months now and I think I deserve to know! And three,” she added as an afterthought, “because I’ll tell your mother if you don’t.”

“That’s blackmail!”

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Haru glared at her friend for a few seconds before seeing that she really had been backed into a corner. And maybe it would be good to actually voice her thoughts. She was getting a little sick of the internal dialogue always nattering away at the back of her mind.

Anyway, she could always… omit certain truths.

“Alright, but promise me you won’t go round telling people.”

Hiromi cheered and tried to hug her friend, stopping rather quickly when she remembered the hot chocolate grasped in one hand. She settled herself instead to sit back in her seat and watch Haru. “Okay, so what’s the guy’s name?”

Haru blushed a little. “Humbert.”

As she had expected, there was a slight tittering of laughter from Hiromi.

“No, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t laugh,” giggled the other girl, covering her mouth with one hand to suppress the laughter. Unfortunately, the action of trying to stifle her giggles only set to make it worse. “It’s just…” She broke down into heavy laughter so that Haru never found out exactly what “it just” was.

Haru didn’t speak for several moments, but the anime sweat drop was slowly getting larger. “I call him Baron,” she said tautly.

Haru’s voice somehow diffused the hilarity of the situation and Hiromi eventually reclaimed control over her laugh; slightly red-faced, but whether it was from the laughter or from mild embarrassment, Haru didn’t bother to ask.

“Better?” Haru asked in the same curt tone.

“Much.”

“I suppose you still want to hear about him?”

Hiromi immediately plastered an innocent expression on her face. “Yes please.” The innocent expression immediately began to slip. “So… this Baron… what is he like? I want all the details!”

‘ _Somehow I doubt you’re entirely prepared for **all** the details_ ,’ the sarky part of Haru’s mind commented. Even if she could explain the Creation concept to her friend, there was also the ‘wooden figurine’ and ageless part of the Creation stuff, not including the fact he was a feline. A dapper, gentleman feline, but a feline all the same.

“Come on! Details!” Hiromi pressed, regardless of Haru’s muted silence. “What’s he like? Where does he come from? How old is he?”

Haru hesitated and decide to tell as much of the truth she could give without wandering into the more… unique aspects of the situation.

“He’s… well, he’s foreign. He was originally… born–” she had almost said ‘created’, but that would just complicate matters “–in Germany but he’s lived with English relatives most of his life.” Lie. But it was the only way she could really explain Baron’s distinctive accent. Not that Hiromi would ever meet Baron, but all the same…

She had asked the figurine once about his accent and Baron had concluded that he was created with the accent. Created to be an old-style English gentleman. Or, gentle- _cat_ , as the case may be.

“So he’s English?” Hiromi had already pounced on the first titbit of information Haru had released, and was ready to proceed with a full diagnosis. “That’s so cool! Does he have a posh accent? Does he drink tea? Does he play cricket?”

Haru laughed. “Hiromi, you are terrible. Stereotyping someone like that!”

“But are those stereotypes _true_?”

The darker brunette weighed it up for a moment before admitting defeat. “Okay, so maybe he does have a slightly posher-than-average accent...” She winced at seeing that Baron could easily tick most of the stereotype boxes, and added, “And he does like tea, but I’ve _never_ seen him play cricket.”

“Have you asked him?”

For several moments the image of Baron struggling with a cricket bat came to mind and she had to stifle a chuckle. He could always own his own cricket bat, she supposed. Still, she smiled wanly to herself. “I guess he might play cricket,” she conceded.

Hiromi grinned with the conviction of someone who believes they’ve won. Haru didn’t attempt to debate that.

“So when do I get to meet this guy?”

“Meet?”

Hiromi raised one eyebrow with the perfection of someone who had used the action too many times for it to be anything less. “Yes, _meet_.” She sighed dramatically and shook her head at her friend’s apparent naivety. “Haru, as your best friend, I am obliged to meet the guy that has stolen your heart away and deem him acceptable for you to date!”

“I’m not... we’re not... He doesn’t even...” Haru groaned and abandoned her tea and biscuit entirely. “He doesn’t even know how I feel about him.”

“So _tell_ the guy!” Hiromi ordered. “Then he can tell you he likes you back, and then you can kiss and live happily-ever-after. And then I get to meet him,” she added as an essential afterthought. The lighter brunette smiled triumphantly. “Simple.”

“Yeah,” Haru echoed hollowly. “Simple.”

If only.


	3. Saturday 3rd December 2011

_You better watch out,_

_You better not cry,_

_Better not pout_

_I’m telling you why_

_Santa Claus is coming to town._

_x_

**Saturday 3 rd December 2011: Santa Clause is Coming to Town**

To Haru’s not-so-mild irritation, the conditions at which she visited the Cat Bureau were... less than desirable, as Haru’s mother had put it earlier that day.

“Less than desirable?” Haru muttered to herself, forcing the battered umbrella before her to stave off the torrential rain. “Try horrific!” A gust of wind picked at the aging umbrella and drove it back, causing Haru to swing around to keep hold of the handle. Another gust of wind served to leave the umbrella inside-out.

Muttering threats about what she would do to the rain in the hypothetical case of if it ever manifested itself in human form, she was forced to backtrack to set the umbrella to rights. Shivers crept up her back as spitting rain pelted her back, all too thinly protected by a waterproof coat.

“Damn... Damn... Damn umbrella!” Haru cursed.

The wind seemed unimpressed with her display and proceeded to whip the flimsy fabric framed by its metal skeleton from Haru’s already wet and slippery grip, and fly it away into the air.

Haru watched the umbrella soar steadily further away. A whimper escaped her lips.

When it appeared that her umbrella wasn’t going to magically reappear in her hand several seconds later, she snapped her hood up in a form of fruitless defence against the rain, and started along the road. She was already nearly at the Bureau; some stubborn streak inside her had decided that she was going to finish her trek.

All the same, when she arrived at the Refuge, she was wet through and shivering.

Her poofy yellow-with-horizontal-red-streak coat had morphed from its previously sunset yellow colour to a deep orange and was growing darker with every new layer of rain soaking through it. Still she knelt down by the doll-sized double doors of the Bureau and politely tapped on them.

As she had been expecting, the familiar form of the Baron opened the doors quickly afterwards – and stared at his visitor.

“H-Haru... What are you doing here?”

Haru, in her part, grinned ruefully. “Well, we agreed I would visit today... I’m sorry – it wasn’t raining this badly when I left and I _did_ start out with an umbrella.” Which was flying somewhere across urban Japan right now.

“Come in; you must be chilled to the bone.”

Haru started to move forward to follow the figurine, then stopped. Through the double doors she could see the Bureau glowing brightly within; as cheery and clean as always. The inside was neatly adorned with Christmas decor; slender strands of tinsel weaving its way across surfaces, miniature pieces of holly scattered around the room.

“Is everything alright?” Baron was standing at the door; concern covering his expression as he watched the brunette steadily getting wetter – and inevitably colder.

“I suppose I shouldn’t come in – I’ll just get your home wet,” Haru said, looking guilty at how she’d almost entered without thinking of that.

“Nonsense. Come on in before you catch your death of cold.”

“Are you sure? I’m just going to drip everywhere–”

“Quite sure,” the Baron answered firmly. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

Haru grinned at the prospect of a cup of Baron’s blend, and started to move inside without much prickling of her conscious.

However, before she could get very far, there was a shift. A tiny, subtle change in the air around her. At least, it was subtle at first. She wasn’t sure how she felt the change, but she did, and so instead of following the figurine inside she stepped to her feet, all the time watching her surroundings.

The rain was changing.

That was the only thing she could pin down. Somehow, in some way, the rain was changing. Not lessening, she noted with vague disappointment. Not dying away. She caught a raindrop in her hand and brought it up for inspection.

Instead of the droplet of water she had been expecting, she appeared to be holding a small, feathery flake in her palm.

‘ _Snow?_ ’

She watched the flake melt away at the warmth of her hand, the ice-cold sting seeping into her skin. More snowflakes joined their melted companion and now the wind picked up again, bringing snow round in a dizzying whirlwind.

If she had been at home, at school, at the Crossroads, she would have laughed at the arrival of the snow; danced round in it, rejoicing in winter’s signature weather. But since she was at the Cat Bureau she only found herself worrying that something was going to _happen_.

“Haru, aren’t you going to–” Baron stopped in his question as he saw the Refuge was being indulged in its own personal snowstorm. His gaze steadily widened.

“Hey, Baron, what’s going on...?” The rather round form of Muta appeared behind the Cat Creation; his response was slightly more vocal than Baron’s. “Holy mackerel Baron, whose business have you been poking your nose in _this time_?”

“I... I haven’t...”

Growling, Muta made his way around the confounded Creation and shouted out to the girl, “Hey, _Chicky_ ; take cover or something!”

Haru didn’t need any second reminders and quickly tried to gleam what little protection she could gain from Toto’s empty column – Haru assumed that the Bird Creation was present inside the Bureau – squatting down on one side of it.

For several seconds she sat hunched there, trying to drown out the howl of the wind which had grown steadily louder and increased in strength. Snow was whipped into her face, her hair; making use of every crack in her defences and exploiting them.

Then the wind died down suddenly – so suddenly that the silence that abruptly followed seemed to carve away an empty, hollow hole in the air and press in on her ears. Haru’s breath was too loud; she watched it condense on the arctic air before her and spiral away.

Then there was a thud. It echoed round in the dead silence. A slow, steady thud that Haru first mistook for her heartbeat. It was followed by another, equally measured thud of something hitting the cobbled ground. Only at the fourth repetition of the noise did Haru pin down what it was.

Haru watched her breath condense out in front of her for a few seconds longer. ‘ _Hooves?_ ’ she questioned madly, even now finding the suggestion ridiculous. But there was no mistaking it now she had named it. Still, there was only one way to clarify.

She peered around the column, forsaking the meagre protection it had granted her, and saw just who their unpredicted visitor was.

She had been right; it had been hooves she had heard striking the ground. The offender in question was a huge, well-built shire horse, but it was like none she had ever seen before. Its snow white coat was fine and rippled like the wind itself, always moving, always rising and dipping, right down to the layered feathering of the lower legs. Its mane, long and thick, was also in constant movement; it swelled and flowed like the wind was still tugging at its icy strands. It wasn’t just icy in colour either – the way it moved, the way it shimmered made the mane look like malleable icicles; at moments it appeared translucent, at others it appeared opaque.

Haru’s gaze, however, soon moved onto the rider of the winter steed.

If she had still believed in Father Christmas, she might have thought him to be some colder version of the merry giving-presents-and-sneaking-down-chimneys man. His white beard would be the envy of any Father Christmas wannabe, with its thick and tangled arrangement, but it, like the coat of the horse, didn’t look quite natural. Or, at least, it didn’t look quite normal. It looked like someone had woven strands of snow and ice into the hair, letting it glimmer when it caught the light.

He owned the fur-lined coat too, only it wasn’t the stereotyped ruby red. Decorate patterns of blue and white chased one another along the solid material, spiralling between one another and mapping out intricate crystal-snowflake designs in distorted symmetry.

The man – although Haru was no longer sure that it was a man, but some spirit – dismounted and his sturdy, coal-black boots hit the ground with an unyielding pound. Where his feet touched the ground ice sprung up, freezing the cobbled earth with every step he took.

It was at this point that Haru spotted the members of the Bureau, still standing at the doors’ entrance. Baron’s surprise was still evident, but some glimmer of understanding was present.

The Cat Creation moved forward and gave the man – spirit, whatever it was – a respectful bow. “Your Lordship, to what do we owe this unexpected honour?”

“Honour?” spluttered Muta from behind. The fat cat waddled forward with as much irritation as he could manage. “This guy’s freaky weather is freezing my butt off! Can’t you ask him to check the thermostat?”

“Muta...”

But the spirit – Haru had decided it was a spirit for the moment – only smiled, as if amused by Muta’s frankness. The smile was unexpected, but somehow it worked on the weathered face. Somehow it warmed the previously cold disposition of the spirit and Haru’s earlier fear began to fade away.

“It is quite alright; I understand that many mortals are not made for my cold.”

The spirit’s voice was old; it spoke of many winters seen, it spoke of harsh winters and snowy winters, of winter wonderlands and winters spent by the fire; it spoke of the earth freezing below his feet and the air freezing above his head.

The snow came together in his hand – Haru assumed that even as it was a spirit, it still was a he – and moulded itself together into the shape of a staff. At the top gleamed a gem, always changing shape – one moment it was a snowflake, then a star, then a whirling ball of snow-studded magic – and when he tapped the bottom against the ground the cold lessened.

Haru hadn’t even realised how vicious the grip of cold was until it lessened. The cold had been tightening her lungs, making it hard to breathe, to drag in each mouthful of air, and suddenly the task no longer became an ordeal. The snow – for it had still been snowing, even with the lack of wind – still continued to fall, but it became slower until it was just the gentle pattering of snow floating down from the misted sky.

“Thank you, Your Lordship.”

Haru wasn’t sure whether Baron was thanking the spirit for lessening the intensity of the cold, or for not smiting Muta on the spot, but she didn’t think it was necessary to ask at the moment. Deciding though that she had spent quite enough time hiding, she got to her feet and cautiously wandered into the midst of the unorthodox meeting.

“What’s going on? Who–?” Haru cut off her question before she could finish, conscious of the fact that Baron had referred to the spirit as ‘Your Lordship’ which immediately made her aware that he wasn’t your average spirit. If there was such a thing as an ‘average spirit’. Swallowing back nerves as all eyes turned to her – including the ageless, eternal eyes of the spirit – she bowed low and started again. “I was wondering as to who exactly Your Lordship is,” she commented, hoping that that got her question across without sounding too disrespectful.

She wasn’t answered and when she brought her head up, she saw the spirit was regarding Baron with a new gaze.

“A _human_ , Creation? A human in the Cat Bureau?” he asked. There was some unreadable note in his tone – something near amusement Haru almost thought.

“Miss Yoshioka is... an ex-client of the Bureau,” Baron answered, with all the elements of someone who is picking their words very carefully. “Whatever it is that you have come to us for, I promise that Miss Yoshioka is to be trusted as much as any of the Bureau members.”

Again, a smile crept onto the spirit’s expression, but it was subtler than last time. He turned to the brunette. “The Creation speaks high praise of you, Human. What do you say to that? Do you think you can be trusted?”

Haru’s eyes strayed to the figurine and she smiled warmly at his words. Her gaze returned to the more intimidating form of the winter spirit. “If the Baron believes in me, then that gives me all the belief in myself I need to live up to the expectations set,” she said softly. She nodded, bowing her head a little more than was needed for a quick nod. “Yes, I believe I can be trusted.”

“Excellent!” As changeable as the winter weather, the spirit had suddenly shifted from his daunting front to the man that could have been mistaken for Father Christmas. “Then I am Father Winter, and I have a problem that I need your help with.”

Haru’s mind had frozen at the ‘Father Winter’ piece of information. _The_ Father Winter; the one thought to be only a personification of winter; the one said to bring winter and all that malarkey? _That_ Father Winter?

And Muta had already snapped at the guy.

“A problem _we_ can help with, Your Lordship?” Baron repeated politely, although it was clear from his tone that he was unsure what kind of problem one of the most powerful spirits would ever need _their_ help for. Perhaps he was also wondering what kind of mess they were about to get themselves involved in. “Are you quite sure?”

“I am positive! This is a problem that requires a more... refined touch.”

“Ah.” Baron’s answer was made to be an affirmative, understood response, but the fact that he had forgone his consistent ‘Your Lordship’ suggested that he was already beginning to wonder just how wise they were to get involved. “Refined in what way?”

“Refined in the way that it involves matters of the heart.”

Unhelpfully, Muta snorted at this point. “Yeah, what makes you think he can help you with your problems when he can’t even sort out his own ‘matters of the heart’?”

“Really, Muta; you are quite tactless,” Toto remarked irritably. Haru hadn’t noticed the Bird Creation before now, but now the crow sat perched on the balcony of the Bureau. “Even for a giant marshmallow.”

“Shut it, birdie!”

Baron did his best to ignore the insults that were now proceeding to fly behind him, and concentrated at the matter at hand instead. “Matter of the heart, Your Lordship? Does this mean that you have found someone...?”

The spirit laughed – his laughter could have been a Father Christmas laugh, except that it was too wintery – too brittle and coarse. Haru received the impression this was his normal laugh. “By all the winters, no. No, not at all. No, the besotted one in question would be Jack Frost.”

Haru’s eyes had slowly been widening throughout the exchange; at this point they simply bugged. “Jack Frost?” she repeated. There was mild hysteria that was mostly the result of the humour in the situation getting to her. “ _He_ exists too? Are you about to start telling me the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny are also real?”

“Of course not; don’t be stupid,” Father Winter dismissed. He turned to the Cat Creation, easily ignoring the battle that had sprung up between Muta and Toto. “Jack Frost has fallen for a young _human_ woman by the name of Elspeth Moroz. By my power I have turned him temporarily human until the end of Christmas Eve, since my magic is at its strongest up to that point. If he has won this human’s love, I shall grant him full humanity and I shall find another spirit to take his place, but if not... we have an agreement that he will return to his spirit form. I will not condemn him to a human’s life if this woman does not accept him.”

“And you want us to...”

“Help Jack. By all the winters, he will need all the help he can get. I will give what help I can give you for this, but I am depending on your human knowledge to be the main benefit. Can I rely on you?”

In the background, the fight had demeaned itself to rough-and-tumble aggression; a combination of fur and feathers flying across the air to mingle with the snow.

Baron smiled wanly. “I hope so.”


	4. Sunday 4th December 2011

_Away in a manger_

_No crib for His bed,_

_The little Lord Jesus_

_Laid down his sweet head_

_The stars in the bright sky_

_Looked down where he lay_

_The little Lord Jesus_

_Asleep on the hay_

_x_

**Sunday 4 th December 2011: No Crib**

_“Whatever it is that you have come to us for, I promise that Miss Yoshioka is to be trusted as much as any of the Bureau members.”_

She had promised herself that she wouldn’t mull over what had happened yesterday – what had been done and said – and yet, somewhere along the line, that resolve had fallen apart. Did his words mean she wasn’t considered one of the “Bureau members”? Did that mean they all just saw her as the tag-along-human; the ex-client who wouldn’t leave them alone? She grimaced at the thought and crossed her legs. It was early morning – well, early for a Sunday, and the sun had only recently risen – and she hadn’t got much further than her bed so far, preferring to sit, cross-legged as the case appeared to be, in her pyjamas and think over the day before.

Background noises consisted of the hum of the morning traffic, decidedly lazy at this time on a Sunday morning, and the hiss of the shower going across the house, which easily pinpointed her mother pampering herself with her usual morning routine.

Bored with the questions concerning the “Bureau member” section, her mind moved on to another phrasing. He had also called her “Miss Yoshioka” rather than the usual informal “Haru” (he had never called her “Miss Yoshioka” before, only ever “Miss Haru” before it became simply “Haru”) but she mostly put that down to Father Winter’s presence.

Still the idea that she had not only met, but also been admitted into a plea for help from the mythological character messed her mind around. She uncrossed her legs and then, when she suddenly decided that didn’t make things any better, crossed them again.

But he had said she could be trusted, she thought, returning back to the main topic of “he” being the Baron. He had stood up for her. He had spoken for her. That counted for something, surely?

Her musings, which could easily spiral into the same circular pattern if indulged long enough, were mercifully broken by sturdy knocking at the front door.

“Haru, could you answer that? I’m kind of occupied right now!”

Uncrossing her legs for the second time, she swung her feet over the side of the bed, grabbing a nearby dressing gown, and headed downstairs. “Yeah, fine! It’s probably just the papers turning up on time. For _once_.” The last parts of her comments were directed mostly to herself. She ran through a variety of other scenarios – Hiromi on one of her mad moments; a salesman trying to sell them something; the poor milkman delivering frozen bottles of milk – but mainly she decided it would be the postman.

It wasn’t the postman.

That was probably the first thought that passed across her mind when she opened the door. She had been expecting a slowly balding man in his mid-forties with a pot-belly developing and a ready smile. What she hadn’t been expecting was a young man.

Second thought: She didn’t recognise him.

Third thought: Then why did he look familiar?

Her fourth thought wasn’t really one thought at all, but a jumbled myriad of confused images and questions. The young man was a couple of years her senior; his tawny hair kept in check by a grey, almost-white top hat and a morning suit to match. The handle of a cane was gripped somewhat tightly in one hand. His green eyes flickered over at her with a rather apologetic expression.

Fifth thought consisted of a checklist.

Tawny hair: check.

Top hat: check.

Morning suit: check.

Cane: check.

Green eyes: check.

Familiar? Uncannily so.

She slammed the door.

On reflection, she would note later, her actions had been rather rash. ‘ _I mean_ ,’ she tried to rationalise hastily, her back pinned against the door as if she was worried the visitor was about to force his way in, ‘ _just because he **looks** like a human Baron doesn’t mean I need to go losing my manners. Poor guy turns up on a cold winter day and I go losing my head and slamming the door in his face. He’s probably freezing out there_. _Just open the door and see what he wants; I bet he won’t even sound like Baron_.’

Still, it took her several seconds before she could bring herself to open the door again.

The man, to her mild relief, mild distress, was still outside; his expression was one of an individual who wasn’t sure whether they should be insulted or relieved. A shaky smile rose to his lips. “Miss Haru–”

She slammed the door.

‘ _Oh my... Oh my... Oh my..._ ’ The hysteria was steadily worsening and she only just prevented herself from pacing the hallway. ‘ _He sounds **exactly** like Baron! That’s impossible. That is just... This can’t be happening. I must be dreaming. That’s it, I... I... I’ve got to talk to the guy._ ’

“Who is it, Haru?” That was her mother from upstairs, still in the shower by the sound of it that. At least that meant the older woman wasn’t about to burst into the situation downstairs right now.

“It’s fine, Mum!”

This was not fine. This was so far off the scale of “fine” that it was just a dot in the distance. But there was one thing she knew – she had to see the man again. To check that she wasn’t going delusional.

Keeping that thought – that _need_ – in mind, she opened the door and slipped outside before any (perhaps rational) thoughts could enter her head.

The man was still there, still standing outside her house, which discarded the possibility that she was hallucinating. That wasn’t assuming that there was the possibility she might still be hallucinating. But if she started down that road of “ifs” and “buts” then she might never return. She took a look at the person before her who could so easily qualify as a human Baron – right down to the top hat perched on his head. Those eyes... she knew those eyes.

“Miss Haru, I–”

“So it’s really you, is it?”

Haru had never intentionally meant to cut in, but she couldn’t help it; she _needed_ to know. The man bowed his head in a semi-apologetic manner at her words and didn’t try to continue his interrupted sentence.

“It appears I am.”

Haru pulled the door behind her to a close, listening to the click of the latch, and moved the two of them a couple of steps away from her front door. She turned on her heel to face the man that she was now almost positive was one and the same as the Baron. “How?”

“I guess... Father Winter thought I would be more use to his cause as a... as a human,” he answered slowly. “I was as surprised as you were to find myself becoming human when the sun rose this morning. Luckily at the time I was outside, or the Bureau may have become a little overcrowded at the time.”

“And... what about the other two?” Still there was a tiny seed of doubt that there had been some gigantic misunderstanding and this stranger was just that – a stranger.

A familiar smile rose to the man’s lips. “Well, Muta became somewhat hysterical – or as hysterical as Muta can get – at the thought that my... _condition_ could be contagious. Toto did very little to calm him; from the impression I received it appeared clear he was inventing new names that would apply to a human Muta.”

“It _is_ you!” Haru’s doubt fell away at the uncannily accurate portrayal of the other Bureau members and in her relief she proceeded to hastily hug the human Baron. She hastily released him when she realised what she had just done and took a step away to make it extra clear that she wasn’t about to hug him again. “Heh, sorry. It’s just... I wasn’t sure whether you were, you know, _you_ or not...”

“Understandable.” Baron raised one hand to right his top hat and at first Haru thought it was to set the hat correctly, but when he continued to hesitate before adding anything she began to suspect it was a nervous action. “Miss Haru...”

Yes, it was a nervous action, Haru noted dryly. Nowadays he rarely called her that, and usually it was either in jest or because he was unsure what to say. Since this hardly looked like the time to be jesting, she decided on the latter of the two choices.

“Miss Haru,” he started again, slowly gaining momentum to what it appeared he needed to say, “the fact remains that since this morning I have... ah, to put it frankly, rather _outgrown_ my usual place of residence...”

The final pieces clicked together. “And you were wondering whether you could crash on the couch until you return to normal,” Haru finished.

“That’s a human metaphor for staying at another’s place for a short period, is it not?”

Haru laughed. “Yes, only in this case you might be skipping the “metaphorical” aspects of the phrase. Since we lack a guest room, you will be spending your nights on the sofa.”

Baron nodded. “I can accept that.”

Haru’s smile faded away. “Unfortunately you will have to persuade my mother before you come to any final decisions. Assuming it takes right up to Christmas Eve to succeed in the Jack Frost and Elspeth Moroz business, that means you’ll be “crashing on the couch” for the majority of this month.”

“Please, Haru; I have nowhere else to go.”

He had called her Haru, just Haru this time. Her smile returned to an extent. “Then let’s go and introduce you to the mother.”

It was only as she arrived inside that she realised she was still wearing her dressing gown and pyjamas. She reddened and hoped that Baron had been so worried about finding somewhere to stay in his current... condition, that he hadn’t paid much attention to her appearance. Goodness, she must have looked a mess!

“Haru, who was it?”

“A friend, Mum!” the brunette called up the stairs. She motioned for Baron to take a seat in the joint lounge and kitchen. He perched himself at the edge of the aging leather-brown sofa and tried to look comfortable seated beside a pile of old newspapers and various other clutter. Haru’s expression reddened again, but this time at the mess in the lounge.

“Excuse me, I’ll just tidy things up a bit,” she apologised, sweeping up the week-old newspapers into one hand and dumping them on the table. She kicked the multicoloured pieces of fabric littered across the floor into a pile by the leg of the table and tried to pretend the room was in a vaguely presentable state. “Sorry, I’d say we’re not usually this messy, but that would be a total lie.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured.

“I didn’t know we’d be getting a visitor today–”

“It’s _fine_ ,” he repeated firmly.

Haru stopped in her frenzied clean-up of the room and smiled ruefully. “Thank goodness, because if my mother agrees then _that_ sofa will be the one you’re going to getting acquainted with over the next month.” The grin widened. “It’s either that or the floor.”

Baron looked over the wooden flooring that was still covered with the occasional swatch despite Haru’s attempt to sweep them all under the table. “I’m sure the sofa will be very comfortable,” he commented after a moment.

“Good.”

“Okay, Haru; who was at the door? Have they gone?”

“No, Mum. It was just a friend I’d like you to meet.” Snapping her gaze back to Baron, she muttered, “Look respectable.”

“I _do_ look respectable,” Baron protested.

Whatever Haru may have had to say, she quickly brought to a stop as Naoko Yoshioka appeared at the lounge door. Naoko, unlike her daughter, was already neatly dressed and ready for the day, one hand raising a small towel to dry the last remaining drips of water from her short dark-red hair. “A friend you say?” She grinned. “Why do you make it sound like such a novelty?”

“Thanks, Mum.” Doing her best to ignore her mother’s teasing, she gestured to the seated form of Baron. “This is B–” Brain catching up with mouth just in time, she stuttered the syllable for a moment before ending with, “–Humbert. His name is Humbert Gikkingen.”

Baron took this as his cue to introduce himself and got to his feet, offering a hand to the woman. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms Yoshioka.”

“Likewise,” the redhead replied. She took the hand, her gaze steadily measuring up the young man. “That’s quite an uncommon name you have there. Foreign?”

“It has its Germanic roots,” Baron admitted. He wasn’t about to mention that it was also over a century old.

“And what brings you to our doorstep so early on a Sunday? Is there something I should know?”

“He needs somewhere to stay,” Haru put in quickly. “Just for a while.”

Naoko’s posture lost its open – if slightly wary – air, suddenly becoming tighter, defensive even. “And why would a young man, who I have never heard of before from my daughter, suddenly need to stay in a stranger’s house?”

“He’s not a stranger–”

Naoko took Haru’s arm and led her out of the room and into the hallway. “Excuse me, Mr Gikkingen, but I just need a moment to talk to my daughter.”

Haru sent an apologetic expression to Baron before her mother shut the door behind them. When she turned back to face Naoko, she was shocked to see an impatient, and even a little angry, expression on the older woman’s face.

“What?”

“Haru, what is this all about?”

“He just needs somewhere to stay,” Haru insisted truthfully.

“How long have you known him?”

“A year and a half...”

“So why haven’t I ever heard about him?”

“I guess I just forgot,” Haru retorted.

“For over a year?”

“Life’s been busy,” she answered flatly.

“I don’t like this. He’s not staying.”

“Why?”

“Why? Try because you have never deemed it fit to tell me about him until the day he turns up on our doorstep. Try because I don’t know why he hasn’t got somewhere to stay. Try because I don’t know a _damn thing_ about him!”

“He’s just a friend!” Haru snapped back.

“And how do I know that?” Naoko demanded.

Haru opened her mouth to snap out another reply, but she stopped herself before it got past her mouth. Her eyes widened with realisation. “Oh God... You think that he’s... That I... That _we_...”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not true.”

“It’s not,” Haru breathed. “It’s not and I can’t believe you’d ever think that! You’d think I’d just give it away to any guy?”

Naoko caught her daughter’s wrist before Haru could leave. “I’m sorry, I just had to check. I should’ve known you’re not that type of girl. But... I was worried...”

Haru slumped, her anger already slipping away. “He’s just a friend, Mum,” she promised quietly. “He’s a friend who needs somewhere to stay for a while.”

“How long?”

“A month.”

Naoko drew in a sudden breath. “That’s quite a while.”

“I know.”

Naoko might have made a fuss, but it appeared her anger had also been spent. She looked over at her daughter, the only remaining family she had left. “Okay,” she agreed, “but he’s not staying here for free. He’s going to pay to stay here. And he’s sleeping on the couch.”

“I warned him he would be.” Haru’s mind turned to the matter of money. As far as she knew, he didn’t have any. She would have to hope he had something in mind. But he was staying. She drew her mother into an impulsive hug. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For believing me.”


	5. Monday 5th December 2011

_Joy to the world, the Lord is come!_

_Let earth receive her King;_

_Let every heart prepare him room,_

_And Heaven and nature sing,_

_And Heaven and nature sing,_

_And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing_

_x_

**Monday 5 th December 2011: Joy to the World**

“Come on, Haru – I thought some Christmas shopping would put you in a good mood!”

Haru traced her hand idly along the entourage of cuddly toys lined up on the shelf. Like last year’s Christmas shopping voyage, she had been dragged through various toy shops in Hiromi’s mission to find the perfect toy for her younger brother. As the lighter brunette repeatedly told Haru: It wasn’t Christmas shopping unless you had gone through at least one toy shop.

Haru had been dragged through five so far.

“I’m sorry, Hiromi. I just have... well, stuff on the brain.”

“Hm, _stuff_... thanks for the description.”

“Well, do you want an up-to-the-minute report on the internal workings of my mind?” she retorted, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes please.”

Huffing in mock-exasperation, Haru threw a stuffed dog at her friend. “Honestly, you are... ridiculous!”

“And you are being deliberately mysterious,” Hiromi replied, catching the cuddly toy in both hands. “So we’re even.” She examined the stuffed dog in a routine action, automatically inspecting it for “little brother suitability”.  Dressed out in a Father Christmas outfit, the large label hanging off its label proclaimed it to be “Holly; Santa’s helper”, it’s rather too-large eyes staring out to the world with a glazed, unseeing expression.

“You’re being nosy; my ‘mysteriousness,’” Haru replied, making quote marks with her hands to make it perfectly clear what she thought of that accusation, “is only a defence mechanism to protect me against _you_.”

“I’m only being nosy because I think you’re hiding something.”

“You _always_ think I’m hiding something.”

Ignoring her friend’s comments, Hiromi lifted the stuffed dog to her ear and mined the toy to be speaking to her. She nodded as if agreeing with everything the dog was “saying.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I totally agree.” She pulled her head away and grinned at Haru. “Holly also thinks you’re hiding something.”

“Give that here!” Haru swiped the toy off Hiromi. “You’re just scaring poor Holly!”

“ _Me_? _I’m_ scaring her? Oh, I like that! Bite, Holly, bite!”

“I don’t think Holly likes you,” Haru returned, getting herself deeper into the game and enjoying every minute of it. “In fact I think she’s going to bite _you_ instead!” Haru advanced with cuddly toy in hand,

“Oh yeah? Let’s see what Rudolph has to say about that!” Hiromi grabbed another cuddly toy off the shelf – one of Holly’s relatives; a large red-nosed reindeer of the same make – and started attacking Haru and Holly with it.

Laughing, Haru abandoned her own attack and started fleeing down the aisle, arms above head to give her some vague protection against the giant stuffed reindeer bearing down on her at Hiromi’s demand. “Stop it! Stop it! Rudolph doesn’t attack people!”

“He does now!”

Haru slid round a corner and almost ran straight into the bright green uniform of one of the shop assistants. She skidded to a halt before she hit the person; unfortunately Hiromi wasn’t quite so quick. She smacked right into Haru as she turned the corner and in the process jolted Haru into the assistant. Before she face-palmed herself into the green shirt though, hands caught her wrists and helped to balance her.

“Now, ladies, didn’t your mothers warn you that it was dangerous to run in shops?” a smooth voice asked them.

“Sorry, sir.” Haru could hear the grin in her friend’s voice despite the apology. “We’ll just... ahem, put these toys away and be going...” Hiromi plucked at Haru’s sleeve in a not-so-subtle prompt.

Haru wasn’t so quick to respond. For several seconds she stood there as her mind translated a few things. First, that she recognised the voice, if not the outfit. Second, that on the realisation of the first, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to go. And third, that her feet seemed to have disconnected from her brain, because no matter how much she ordered herself to step away, the feet weren’t reacting.

“Come _on_ , Haru...” Hiromi insisted, tugging at Haru’s sleeve more violently this time. “Let’s leave the nice shop assistant to his shop assistant duties and get going...”

“Baron?” Haru raised her eyes to the assistant’s face, ignoring the change in uniform, and found the face to be uncannily familiar. “What are...? What are you doing here? And what are you doing wearing _that_?” she added, raising her eyes higher to peer at the Christmas hat that had somehow mutated into bright, nearly florescent green to match the uniform, and sporting reindeer antlers sticking out the sides. At the tips of the antlers little red bells hung limply. It looked like someone had taken every Christmas image they could think of and combine them into a hat.

The result?

Baron grinned and tossed his head to set the bells ringing. “Apparently it’s compulsory for all staff. I think it suits me.” The grin widened.

“I liked your top hat better,” Haru answered bluntly. She brought herself a little higher as she flicked one of the bells with her fingers, eyebrows raised as she watched it swing from side to side lifelessly, the jingle almost apologetic that it couldn’t be more impressive.

“I’m seriously considering replacing my top hat for this,” Baron warned her; his voice was so sincere that if she hadn’t known better she would have been worried. “I think this is going to be the new fashion.”

“Yes, following bow ties and fezzes,” Haru replied sarcastically. She flicked the bell again and watched it repeat the same pattern. “Seriously?” she suddenly added. “This is compulsory?”

“Apparently.”

“Excuse me,” Hiromi interrupted sharply, “but who exactly is this guy?” She looked a little irritated at being left on the side.

The other two had forgotten her presence. Up to that point neither had commented on the reduced distance between them, or the fact that one of Haru’s wrists was still held by Baron. Neither had, because it had felt so natural. But at that point, when the lighter brunette’s presence was remembered, they jumped apart.  Haru turned to face her friend almost guiltily. “Oh, this is B... I mean, Hum... I mean... Ah...” She glanced back to Baron, unsure what she should call him. Suddenly she regretted telling Hiromi about Baron’s existence.

Baron stepped forward and offered a hand. “My name is Humbert Gikkingen,” he said, taking over the situation with apparent ease. “I take it you are one of Haru’s friends.”

“Best friend,” Hiromi supplied. A slightly soppy grin slipped over the girl’s face. “You must be the guy Haru was talking about. Wow, you really do have a cute accent.”

“Really?” Baron tilted his head to grin at Haru. “I have a cute accent?”

Behind the two, Haru groaned and face-palmed herself. “ _Posh_ accent, I said,” she muttered. “Posh, not cute.”

“Ah, Haru’s just too shy to say it,” Hiromi said. She was still grinning madly, if her voice said anything. “But your accent really is too cute.”

Haru peered over at her friend. “Aren’t you a little too _taken_ to be flirting?” she demanded, phrasing her tone deliberately light, but unavoidably glaring at the other girl. “What would Tsuge say?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of harmless flirting,” Hiromi replied sagely. “And what am I meant to do when you bring along a good-looking guy?”

“One: I did not “bring him along” – we met accidently and two...”

“Yes?” Hiromi smirked. “And two?”

Haru grumbled and gave in. She was going to complain about the “good-looking” front just because Hiromi had been so unsubtle about it, but she wasn’t sure how she was meant to complain without it insulting Baron. “Nothing,” she finished. Anyway, even if she wasn’t going to admit it, Hiromi was right.

“Good.” Hiromi turned her gaze to Baron. “Just wondering, but do you play cricket?”

Baron tilted his head, as if trying to find some hidden meaning in that, apparently flummoxed by the abrupt change in topic. “No, I can’t say I ever have. Why?”

“She’s just gauging up how stereotypically British you are,” Haru explained with a sigh. “And with that note, we’ll be going. Come on, Hiromi.” Without warning, she grabbed her friend’s hoodie and dragged her away from Baron. “Nice meeting you!”

Baron smile became a gentler, fonder expression as the darker brunette turned away and headed down the aisle. “You too, Miss Haru. You too.”

ooOoo

“Why didn’t you introduce me to him sooner?” Hiromi bounced along the DVD aisle, continuing to bombard Haru with questions. Her grin had not subsided once since their unexpected meeting with the once-Creation, and suddenly she had lost interest in vacating the shop. Which was why they were still in the same shop that Baron worked in. “Why is it only by accident that I find out who he is? Were you ever going to introduce us?”

“Give it a rest, Hiromi.”

“But I need to _know_!” howled the other girl in a perfectly perfected whine high enough to irritate, low enough not to attract too many strangers’ attentions.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes–”

Haru sighed and strode down the aisle, her long strides forcing the other girl to run to keep up. “Fine! Fine! Whatever. Just stop whining!”

“So you’ll tell me about him?”

“No.”

“But...”

“Just give it up. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you to him sooner, but I didn’t think you were going to ever meet him.”

“And why not?” Hiromi paused in her bouncing long enough to plant herself in front of Haru. “You’re my best friend; you have no business keeping a secret boyfriend from me. From your mother, maybe, but not from your best friend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just...”

Hiromi leant in with a malicious gleam in her eyes. “Uh-huh? He’s just _what,_ Haru?”

Haru deflated. “He’s just a guy I like.”

“Like?” Hiromi echoed. “As in _like_ like?”

“Yes. As in _like_ like.”

Her friend set her mouth in an uncharacteristically thin line, pursing her lips together with all the intention of looking thoughtful. “Have you told him how you feel?”

_“For the record, I admire a young woman who speaks from the heart.”_

Haru winced. “Yep. He didn’t freak, but he very politely turned me down.”

For the first time, Hiromi looked sympathetic. “Oh. Bummer.”

“Yeah.”

There was an unusually awkward pause. “O... _kay_. Well, there are other guys in the world. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Yeah,” Haru echoed hollowly. ‘ _Too bad I’m only interested in one particular fish_.’

And then, with all the finesse that Hiromi possessed, she moved the topic onto something else, something wonderfully trivial, and Haru was back to being dragged along the various aisles of the shop. After an indefinite period, Haru found herself pressing buttons in the animated toy section, just to see what happened, while Hiromi drifted at the other end, debating with some poor shop assistant the pros and cons of a particular toy she was considering for her brother. However, the only result of Haru’s endeavours was an ear-splitting cacophony of noise her end of the aisle.

“I came over here to find the source of the noise; I should have known it would be you, Miss Haru.”

Haru at been in the process of picking up a robotic dinosaur she had accidently set off (she deemed herself bored enough to investigate) but at Baron’s voice she jumped and dropped the toy. Baron caught it before it hit the floor.

“Next time should I just cough?”

Haru grinned. “Perhaps it would be for the best.”

Baron turned the protesting toy over and flicked a switch. Its movements slowed before eventually dying down to nonexistent. “I didn’t know you were interested in dinosaurs, Miss Haru,” he teased, keeping his voice perfectly straight in a pretence of seriousness. “I take it this is an avid interest?”

“For all you know, I could be a big dino fan,” Haru replied. She took the toy off Baron and gingerly set it back on the shelf again. “I could be dino mad.”

He regarded her for a moment. “Somehow I don’t think so.”

She made a face. “That’s what you get for calling me Miss Haru.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough.”

There was a pause as Haru glanced to the side. It appeared Hiromi was still ardently involved in her discussion at the other end. Somehow Haru received the impression that if Hiromi had spotted Baron she would already have crashed their conversion. She turned her eyes back to Baron. “Seriously, what are you doing here? You never told me.”

“I needed work somewhere if I was to pay your mother the rent–”

“Don’t call it that.”

“What? Rent?”

Haru nodded with slight distain. “It makes it sound like you’re our lodger.”

Baron considered the term. “I suppose in every meaning of the word, I am. In what way do you see it?”

“I... I just thought of it as a favour for a friend.” She laughed embarrassedly to herself. “Goodness, that sounds stupid to say when you’re paying for your stay.”

“It’s not stupid,” Baron defended.

“You could just have stayed in a hotel if you were going to pay anyway,” Haru pointed out.

“Yes, but I wouldn’t have had a friend there.” He paused, as if unsure whether he wanted to say what was on his mind. Evidently he chose to say it, because he added, “I heard your argument with your mother yesterday. I heard what was said.”

“You did?” Haru reddened. She knew he must have heard every word – they were only out in the hallway, for crying out loud – but to hear Baron confirm it was another matter. “I suppose that must have been incredibly awkward,” she added after an embarrassing moment.

He nodded his head slightly. “It wasn’t without a certain air of... discomfort, I’ll admit that much. But I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Haru repeated incredibly. “For what? I hate to tell you this, but it wasn’t just your own honour I was defending there.”

“I know. But I’m grateful that you didn’t just back down.” He smiled gently. “It would have been too easy for some to simply give up on the argument before it got to that point. It is for _that_ that I wanted to thank you.”

Haru took his hand in hers and gave it a grateful squeeze. Her mind cast itself back to Baron speaking up for her with Father Winter. “Hey, friends return favours, right? That’s what friends are for.”


	6. Tuesday 6th December 2011

_In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan;_

_Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;_

_Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,_

_In the bleak midwinter, long ago_

_x_

**Tuesday 6 th December 2011: Bleak Midwinter**

Cold was a funny thing.

Of course, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen had been aware of the cold in the past. His brain had informed him “this was cold” or “that was hot”. It was a fact; a statement noted in his mind to ensure he didn’t overstep his boundaries.

But the awareness of cold was quite different to the grim reality of it. No one had warned him how his hair would stand on end, or how his breathing would come out in short, ragged gasps. Even as he pulled his coat over the florescent-green shirt, he found himself pulling it closer still around him. The black coat he wore was one that Haru had dug out from her attic, and it provided a great deal more protection that his usual grey one. It was a decent fit as well, he noted as he flicked the collar up for a morsel more protection from the cold, and Haru had concluded that he had to be the same build as her grandfather, from whom the coat had originally belonged.

Still, as soon as he got his pay check, he was going to invest in some new clothes. It would not be fair to live off hand-me-downs for the entirety of the month.

He started the now vaguely-familiar route back to what he would be considering “home” for the near future, his feet almost automatically taking him back in the direction of Haru’s small house.

The last few days had been... surreal, to say the least. Ordinary life was routine, and yet lacked the mundane quality that was so often attributed to it. Get up in the morning; walk to work – work that was no longer ‘Bureau work;’ work; lunch; work; go home. Even the morning routine took time to become accustomed to – a Creation had no need to clean its teeth, or shave (that had been interesting the first time) – these human requirements were all so very... well, _human_.

Muta and Toto had taken residence nearby – Toto usually posing as a normal crow around the Yoshioka home, and Muta begging scraps from Haru when the brunette’s mother wasn’t around. Toto occasionally returned to the Refuge to see if any clients had turned up – although what to do if there _were_ , they hadn’t worked out yet – but it seemed they only had to focus on Father Winter’s assignment for the moment.

Thank goodness for small mercies.

He stomped his feet in an instinct he didn’t know he possessed to create some heat to keep him vaguely warm, and set off along the path at a hurried pace. He turned down a road, ready to leave the high-street shops behind and start into the resident part of the town, but he paused by the corner.

The road was still steadily pulsing with the flow of people walking home after a day of work, but one individual didn’t quite seem right.

There was nothing to set the man apart from the rest of the human race; Baron could only conclude that some of his Creation awareness still resided inside him, setting his senses a slight notch above the normal. The man stood at the corner of another road, watching the world go by with a guarded gaze, robed only in casual trousers and a short sleeved top. Before Baron could start questioning who the person was, or why his attention had been drawn to that particular individual, he was walking over to the man and stopped beside him.

From this distance, the eyes that he had previously classed merely as ‘blue’ he now saw were a piercing icy shade of that colour. The whole face indeed was sharp; sharp eyes, sharp, slightly crooked nose, sharp jaw line. ‘ _Like stone carved by the elements,_ ’ Baron noted to himself, although he didn’t voice this opinion.

“You know, human bodies are a lot more delicate than they look,” he casually commented. He kept his gaze now focused on the passing traffic before them; his unofficial companion did the same. “You should be careful otherwise you might break that one.”

“What are you talking about?” Like his appearance, his voice was also sharp.

“I just thought, given your recent change to human, you might need the dangers pointing out,” Baron answered smoothly back. He didn’t know whether this was indeed the Jack Frost they were meant to be helping, but he was ready to take the chance. And somehow he just knew that this was the very spirit they were looking for.

“I’m not the only one to have recently changed,” the man replied; he turned his head abruptly to the once-feline, and added coldly, “ _Creation_.” Baron stayed quiet and the man turned his gaze back to the busy road before him, his lip curling in repulsion. “Humans,” he muttered disgustedly. “All so caught up in their puny lives; so busy polluting the winter air, pouring their foul gases into the atmosphere.”

Baron still stayed quiet for a moment longer; well accustomed to this type of talk from spirits – spirits who’d had their rivers polluted, their forest cut down, their land paved with concrete. “And yet, you still fell in love with one,” he said quietly.

The man’s gaze snapped sharply to him. “Who told you that?”

Baron thought now would be a good time to introduce himself. Sweeping his hat from his head, he said, “I am Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, once-Creation, head of the Cat Bureau, and temporarily employed by Father Winter to help you in your task.”

The man snorted and looked away. “Old Man Winter was always too worried for other’s welfare. I put it down to all this fancy Father Christmas business that’s been associated with him; it’s finally got to him. But hiring a – what did you call it? – Cat Bureau to assist me?” He laughed – his laugh spoke of winter, but in a different way to Father Winter’s; this was the snappier side of the season – and shook his head. “By all the winters, Old Man Winter has gone soft.”

“He told us of your predicament,” Baron said politely, deciding to ignore the comment on Father Winter’s sentimentality. “What is she like? This Elspeth Moroz?”

For the first time since their meeting, the ice from Jack Frost’s gaze melted. Not much, but noticeably enough. “She’s...beautiful... and so different from other humans. I feel like she understands me better than the whole wretched race put together.”

“So she’s met you?” Well, that could make things a little easier.

“Not... Not exactly,” the once-spirit admitted. “You’ll understand later when you meet her. She has this kind of... aura that sets her apart from others...”

Baron tried desperately not to think how easily that description could be applied to a particular brunette. “She sounds unique,” he said finally. “So you are accepting the Cat Bureau’s assistance?”

Jack Frost’s gaze flickered and Baron was afraid for a few moments that his offer would be declined. This once-spirit was so independent; he could see it in those fiercely ice-blue eyes. But then the look passed, and he nodded his head in defeat. “I suppose, under the circumstances, help will be appreciated.” He didn’t sound like he appreciated the offer. Only that he grudgingly accepted that help was necessary.

“Good. I will introduce you to the rest of the Bureau.”

ooOoo

Haru had had enough of strange men turning up at her door. Not that Baron was a stranger, she amended; it was just that she hadn’t been expecting him to turn up on her doorstep two days ago. Human.

However, the man Baron brought back to her home that evening was very much a stranger in every sense.

“Baron, we were beginning to worry that you had gotten lost. Well,” she corrected with a slight raise of one eyebrow, “ _I_ was beginning to worry that you had gotten lost. Mum wasn’t really that bothered. And Toto and Muta are too busy snapping at each other round the back of the house to notice the time...”

She paused long enough to register that the ex-Creation wasn’t alone. Her mouth curved down.

“Baron, I’m not going to become a host for the random people you bring back. It was hard enough to persuade my mother to let you stay and–”

“He’s not staying here,” Baron smoothly interjected. “We’ll discuss that in a moment, but right now I want to introduce Jack Frost.” He gestured to the man standing haughtily at his side.

“Oh.” She couldn’t stop herself; she stared at first. And then her manners snapped into place and she hastily bowed. “Your... um...” She wasn’t sure what was the proper title for the spirit, so she just settled on, “Your Lordship,” like she had heard Baron call Father Winter.

The man chuckled dryly. “No titles for me, Human. Old Man Winter might be all for the titles, but he and I are not the same. The respect is noted though.”

Haru quickly brought herself out of the bow, face burning. “I’m sorry, I...” She shook her head and regained some of her composure as the coldness in his voice got to her. The self-confidence Baron had installed in her returned with a vengeance. “Well, excuse me for not knowing how to address a winter spirit, but it seems you are somewhat alien to human courtesies. Here it is considered impolite to address a person as merely ‘human’. It is the same as calling someone merely ‘boy’ or girl’ or ‘woman’. In future you will refer to me as ‘Miss Haru’.”

The once-spirit regarded her, and Haru involuntarily found herself holding her breath, hoping she hadn’t just overstepped some invisible, fatal boundary.

The seconds ticked by, and a ghost of a smile finally flickered at Jack Frost’s lips. “Well, Creation, it appears you pick your Bureau members with pride.” He nodded his head with the faintest signs of respect to the young brunette. “Miss Haru, your points are noted and well comprehended. If we are to be working together in the near future, I hope we can come to a mutable understanding.”

“Oh, me too,” Haru replied clumsily. She smiled weakly, still unsure whether her decision to snap had been a stupid one, and added, “Oh, and where are you staying? If you’re not staying here, then where...?”

“The Creation...” Jack stopped and corrected himself from referring to Baron merely by his old status. “The Baron has offered for me to take residence in the Bureau. I understand that it is currently unoccupied.”

“Yes, but...” Haru looked from Baron to the ex-spirit, a question in her eyes. “You know, aren’t you a little... um, _big_ to fit?”

“Unlike the Baron, I have retained a good portion of my magic,” Jack replied calmly. “The matter of size should not be a problem.”

“Well, um, good.” Haru looked back to Baron, and her smile strengthened. “I assume you’re going to take him there now,” she said to her lodger. “I’ll see you later then.”

Baron tipped his hat. “Don’t wait up for me. If it takes longer than expected, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

ooOoo

“So what exactly was that about?”

As the two temporary humans walked back down the road, this time in the direction of the Refuge, Jack looked over at the Baron with a questioning gaze. “What was what about?”

“Your reaction to Haru’s outburst.”

Jack gave a sort of half-hearted shrug. In the very short time Baron had got to know him, the once-spirit had lost some of his initial ice. They were still nowhere near friends – more like companions working to a common purpose – but some of the grudging reluctance had melted away. “Ah yes, Miss Haru. Tell me, it seems a little unusual for a human to be helping a Creation-run bureau, does it not?”

“Miss Haru is an ex-client of the Bureau,” Baron replied, resorting to his formal address of the brunette considering the company he was keeping. “She had some unorthodox interaction with the Cat Kingdom, and needed assistance from the Cat Bureau to prevent misfortune.”

“And yet, she is considered one of the Bureau members now?”Jack asked. His tone was deceptively light, but something in his icy-blue eyes was calculating.

“All the members of the Bureau consider her one of the group.”

“It is just, usually when a human wanders into another world or realm, they forget it after a period of time. Humans,” he commented, looking again at the Baron, “are so fickle like that.”

Baron was deciding he didn’t like the direction the conversation was idly – or not so idly – taking. Trying to take matters back into his own hands, he asked, “You are so sceptical of humans, and yet you still decided to pursue this woman?”

“One can only hope for the best.”

Very uncharacteristically, Baron was reduced to a noncommittal grunt. He didn’t like how closely that sentiment struck to his own thoughts concerning that same particular brunette.

“Still–” it seemed that Jack Frost hadn’t done talking “–one can’t help wondering. How come, when the Bureau officially consists of two Creations and one cat, it is only _you_ that Winter decides to turn human?” For the first time since they’d met, a smile – a strange, fickle one, but a smile all the same – rippled across the ex-spirit’s face. “But then,” he smoothly continued, as if he had never paused to smile, “I always said that the old spirit has been getting soft.”

“You never did explain your response to Miss Haru’s outburst,” Baron muttered, finding refuge in the – hopefully – safer subject of conversation. Gaining confidence in his curiosity, he continued with, “ _I_ am wondering why, when a spirit such as yourself bears such contempt for the human race, you would not only allow, but be amused, by the snappy retort of Miss Haru Yoshioka.”

That smile became somewhat wan. “You would rather I had smite the girl or something similar?”

“No,” Baron replied quickly. “It is just that... I found your response... _unusual_. You seem to bear no love for the human race, save one, and yet you still seemed rather... amused by her response.”

Jack Frost tilted his head in a mild, ambiguous shrug. “I find such... rebellion amusing. Call it a pet whim on my part. Humans can be so dull at times; it is refreshing to see them respond for once. And–” the smile became yet more wane, if that were possible “–it reminds me that, at times, humans and I are not all that dissimilar.”

So there wasn’t only distain for the human race, but apparently some grudging respect. Baron noted this with quiet relief; it made his task just that little bit easier. Perhaps winning this woman – this Elspeth – wasn’t as impossible as first thought.

They arrived at the archway of the Refuge and the two of them stopped to survey their destination. “The Cat Bureau is the most readily furnished, but any of the other houses are also available for habitation,” Baron calmly explained, motioning to the wide array of doll-like buildings circling Toto’s column. “And, with your remaining magic, the detail of furnishing shouldn’t be an issue anyway.”

Frost walked out to the middle, his sharp eyes snapping from one miniature house to the next. “Yes,” he said eventually, “I think I could be very comfortable here. The place is filled with Creation magic – even better. It will make furnishing my new home even easier.”

Baron smiled as he remained at the archway. He watched the other man inspect the different houses; peering inside, checking the top for leaks, and the ex-Creation commented, “If... you do manage to win the love of this human...”

“Elspeth,” Jack supplied.

“Elspeth,” Baron amended. “If you do, then perhaps it will be worth you working out a more long-term accommodation arrangement. Perhaps it will be worth you investing in acquiring a job also.”

The man paused in his inspection to look over at Baron. “I hadn’t thought over the matter of money,” he admitted, unusually soft in tone. “We do not deal with such matters as currency in the Spirit Realm.”

“I have some time before work tomorrow – I can help you look round for work, if you wish.”

“Thank...” Jack Frost paused, as if unaccustomed to expressing gratitude. He licked his lips nervously and managed to finish with, “Thank you. Your help – everything you have done to aid me – is much appreciated.” He looked a little surprised at his own words.

Baron nodded his acknowledgement. “The Cat Bureau does its personal best for every client that comes to us.” He nodded again. “If that is all, then I will leave you to the business of settling in.”

“Yes, that is all.” Jack seemed relieved that he had got through the gratitude, but even as the ex-Creation set out away from the Refuge, Frost moved forward a half step. “Baron?”

Baron paused. This was the first time he had been referred to as simply Baron by Jack Frost.

“Old Man Winter was always too worried for other’s welfare,” Jack repeated. “He’s gone soft, like I said; always giving people extra chances. Just think over that for a while.” He turned away, as if embarrassed by his own sentiment. “Perhaps Winter is giving you a chance too.”


	7. Wednesday 7th December 2011

_Merry Christmas, darling_

_We’re apart, that’s true,_

_But I can dream, and in my dreams_

_I’m Christmas-ing with you_

_x_

**Wednesday 7 th December 2011: I Can Dream**

“So how’s the Baron front going?”

Haru slowly passed the ball back Hiromi’s way with the lacrosse stick, which the smaller girl caught expertly with her own stick. Well, it was only to be expected; Hiromi _was_ one of the school’s best lacrosse players. Which was why Hiromi had dragged her best friend after school to help her practise in the sports hall, since it was too icy outside to play.

The darker brunette gave a non-committal shrug. “Same old, same old, really. I haven’t seen much of him today – he set off early to help a friend find some work, and he said he would be late back as he’d be helping the friend after work with a few other issues.”

“Not competition, I hope?” Hiromi asked slyly.

Haru laughed. “The friend’s a _guy_ , Hiromi.”

The other girl raised her eyebrows. “Ooh. Is it _Baron_ who should be worried about competition, then?”

Haru laughed again and threw the ball too far to Hiromi’s left, making the lighter brunette lower her lacrosse stick and be forced to trudge across the hall in order to retrieve it. “Very funny, Hiromi. Do you want me to tell Tsuge about your little flirtation with Baron?”

The ball flew past Haru’s head; she just caught it in her lacrosse stick. Luckily, after all the time spent helping Hiromi refine her sport ability, Haru had picked up some talent of her own.

“Flirting? Who said anything about flirting?” her friend called from the other end of the room. She trekked back across the hall, lacrosse stick swinging easily on her shoulders.

“Um, I think _you_ admitted to it,” Haru recalled. She retrieved the ball from her net and tossed it in her free hand. “Remember?”

“Ah, well, no harm done. Anyway, I want to know about this guy your Baron is helping.”

“You’re only interested now because you know the friend is a guy,” Haru stated flatly. The ball that had been flying up into the air and landing neatly in her palm suddenly slipped, and in doing so it rolled across the floor. “Wait a moment,” she stuttered. “Who said anything about Baron being mine?”

“Ah, so you finally picked up on that. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Sometimes I worry about your sense of humour.”

Hiromi grinned mischievously and swept the ball off the floor, hoisting it into the net of her stick and tossing it to Haru. “If it makes any difference, I frequently worry about you.”

Haru stuck her tongue out at her friend. “Really? You worry about me? I should be so honoured.”

“Huh, pretty much.” They laughed for a little longer before Hiromi deemed that the conversation should move onto something a little more serious, breaking in with, “So has your mother met Baron?”

“I should say so.”

“And he was fine with that?”

“He practically turned up on my doorstep.”

Hiromi laughed; Haru grimaced. The smaller brunette had no idea just how literal that statement was.

“Well, at least he’s eager to meet the family. That’s a good sign, surely?”

“I don’t think he had much say in the matter,” Haru muttered. She tossed the ball back to Hiromi.

“Come on, if a guy wants to meet the family, doesn’t that suggest that he’s looking for something long-term?”

“Hiromi,” Haru reprimanded, “I don’t know whether Baron’s even interested in me in that way. I told you what happened when I admitted my feelings to him.”

“Yeah, but some guys aren’t all that good at reacting to sudden confessions of affection being thrust upon them. I mean, look at what happened when I admitted it to Tsuge.”

Despite herself, Haru let out a chuckle, shaking her head at the story. “Do you think his mother has forgiven him for breaking that window yet?”

Hiromi laughed. “Well, she seems pretty nice around me, so I assume so. Shoot, I really shouldn’t have told him while he was practising ping-pong. All the same, he still said yes. But my point is,” she added, remembering why she’d got onto that topic in the first place, “that some guys just lose their composure at times like that. You’ve got to make exceptions.”

“Hiromi,” Haru sighed, lowering her stick to stare at her friend, “how else am I meant to take the statement, ‘Just for the record, I admire a young woman who speaks from the heart’ after telling him how I feel?”

Her friend winced. “Okay, so maybe at the time he didn’t have feelings for you. But, come on – it’s Christmas! If miracles can happen, they’ll happen at Christmas.”

Haru picked up her lacrosse stick and swung the ball back to Hiromi. ‘ _If only you knew that one miracle had already happened_.’ Out loud, she commented, “Yeah, I suppose you’ve got a point. And we’re getting to know each other a little better now, even if Mum isn’t so keen on him living in our home.”

Haru had to quickly duck as the ball went flying at her head. Hiromi stood staring at her friend, the sudden shock having thrown off her aim; the result being that Haru’s head had almost been separated from her shoulders.

“He’s staying at your house?”

Haru carefully stood back up, now quite sure that Hiromi didn’t have anything else to accidently throw. “Isn’t that kind of what I just said?”

“Your _crush_ is staying at _your_ house?” Hiromi repeated slowly, putting deliberate emphasis on several of her words. “For how long?”

“A month. At most.” Needing to get away from her friend’s stare, Haru backtracked to retrieve the wayward ball, taking her time with the task. “He just needed a place to stay,” she said, still with her back to Hiromi.  “He’s... well, he’s paying for his stay.”

“So he’s like your lodger.”

Haru’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I suppose you could say that.” She sighed and turned back around to Hiromi, throwing the ball back to her. “Nothing... you know... _funny_ is going on between us. Seriously, I guess it’s just like having a brother in the house.”

“Except that one doesn’t usually crush on their brother.”

Haru caught the returned ball and quickly threw it back, perhaps with a little bit more force than was necessary. “Shut up. Look, he is – _literally_ – crashing on the couch for a month until something is sorted out.”

“What if he stays longer than a month?”

“He won’t,” Haru said confidently. By then he should be back to being a wooden doll anyway. “Trust me,” she sighed, sounding gently depressed, “he won’t.”


	8. Thursday 8th December 2011

_Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,_

_Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid;_

_Star of the East, the horizon adorning,_

_Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid._

_x_

**Thursday 8 th December 2011: Dawn on Our Darkness**

Thursday was bitterly cold. Haru registered this as she got slowly to her feet and opened her bedroom curtains. An elaborate design of frost covered the glass, making the outside world a white blur, and a few stray icicles hung from the drain above, lonely out in the winter air.

Needing the cold to wake her up, Haru pulled down on the latch and tried to tug the window up and open. After a few moments of fruitless struggling, she groaned and gave up, falling back onto her bed.

“Darn window. Why does it keep having to freeze up?”

Staring up at the ceiling, she noted that very little of anything productive was being done, and eventually persuaded herself to get up and troop downstairs.

“Hm, something smells nice, Mum,” she sighed as she entered the kitchen, now fully dress, if not fully awake just yet. “What are you cooking? Please tell me you made enough for two.”

There was a very masculine chuckle from the oven. “I’ve made enough for three, if your mother also wants a cooked breakfast. I’ve observed from the last few days that she is particularly partial to scrambled egg and toast.”

Haru reddened, and suddenly her tongue was too clumsy to get the words out. “I... hah... yeah, she is. Um, sorry. I had...”

“Forgotten I was here, evidently.” Baron looked over to her with a chuckle. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve made it downstairs in time for breakfast today actually. I have also observed over the last few days that you have repeatedly omitted breakfast.” He fixed her with a look. “Sit.”

Dutifully, she pulled up a chair and allowed Baron to place a full plate before her. Picking her cutlery, she tried to subtly examine the meal set out before her. She was familiar with the bacon and egg, but to her surprise, tomato, sausage and baked beans had also been included in the breakfast. “Interesting... combination,” she commented eventually.

Baron smiled as he took a seat opposite her, a matching meal in his own hands. “Miss Haru, have you ever had a full English breakfast?”

“Can’t... say I have.”

“Ah, then you have not lived.”

Haru laughed. “That’s rich, coming from an overgrown, animated figurine.”

“Endued with a soul,” he corrected with a wave of his fork. “Let’s not get into the concept of ‘living’ here.”

“Fine. _Endued with a soul_. You were still a cat doll.”

He raised one eyebrow and started on his meal, neatly cutting his sausage into measured portions. “Well, if we are to start pointing fingers, _you’re_ just a human.  Even if you did almost get married off to a cat and changed entirely into one of the feline species, right now you’re still _just a human_.”

Haru considered flicking one of her baked beans, but decided against it when she considered cleaning up the mess it would make. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this,” she replied, grinning back, “but right now, _you’re_ ‘just a human’ too.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Hm, ‘fraid so.” Haru focused her attention on her breakfast for a few moments longer, chasing a runaway tomato across her plate. “But I’ve been thinking...” The tomato was finally speared with the prong of her fork. “...About the whole human thing... It seems a bit weird that Father Winter should only turn you human, and not the other two too.” She looked up at him. “Doesn’t it?”

“ _Old Man Winter was always too worried for other’s welfare. He’s gone soft, like I said; always giving people extra chances. Just think over that for a while. Perhaps Winter is giving you a chance too._ ”

Baron forced a smile and shook his head. “Perhaps he knew you could only deal with one of us suddenly becoming human. I doubt Father Winter has any devious plans behind this.”

“Hm, suppose so.” Moving on to the bacon that would get cold if she left it any longer, Haru let her mind wander. “So how did the Jack business go?”

The once-Creation nodded thoughtfully to himself. “I think it went well. He seemed to know where he wanted to go; he headed straight to the conference centre – the place where the ice-sculpture exhibition is currently taking place.”

Haru smiled. “Figures. So what is he doing exactly?”

“What work is always available? Cleaning and other odd jobs.”

The brunette almost choked on her bacon. “ _Seriously_? Jack Frost – supreme spirit of winter and all that – doing cleaning work?”

“Well, with the show currently on, I think there’s quite a few other odd jobs for him to do too. When I walked back his way after work had finished, he had been asked to fill in for one of the guards that were off sick. He seemed quite happy with the work, strolling through a freezing hall in his guard outfit.”

“Oh, okay; if he’s doing guard work, then it’s not quite so weird.” Haru finally managed to swallow the wayward piece of bacon, attempting to regain a little of her dignity. She blinked and set to work slicing the meat into smaller pieces. “Perhaps over the weekend we could go and take a look round the conference centre, actually.” She grinned. “Could make it a date,” she teased. “You know what that would mean.”

Baron stared at her for a few long seconds. “Educate me,” he eventually said.

“You’re paying.”

He seemed to relax at her words, as if he had been expecting something more. “Is it not enough that I am paying for board and lodging?” he teased back. “Must I also pay for a day out?”

“Pretty please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely...”

Haru grinned. “You have got Saturday off, right?”

“I have the afternoon off. Should I meet you at the conference hall, or should I come back here and pick you up?”

“You know, offering to pick someone up usually means you have a car at your disposal.”

“Since I have no experience in driving just such a vehicle, neither do I own one, I hope that you’ll excuse me.”

“Hm,” mused Haru, “I suppose at one point or another you should learn how to drive.”

The response she received was a dry chuckle. “Since I am only staying here for a month, perhaps it would be rather redundant. And exceptionally dangerous in winter.”

The brunette paused. “Oh. That’s right. You know, I had... forgotten that you would be... well, _returning_ to the Bureau after Christmas.” Her knife and fork drifted across the plate, momentarily lost without purpose. “It’s a shame, really,” she murmured. “I think I’ll miss your company when everything goes back to normal.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think it will be quite lonely when I take up residence at the Bureau again,” Baron replied softly. There was some indistinguishable undercurrent in his tone. “Even with Muta and Toto bickering all the day long,” he laughed slightly.

Haru smiled gently back. “Thank you.”

“Haru!” Naoko’s voice broke the morning peace. “Haru! Time to get up!”

“I’m in here, Mum!” Haru called from the kitchen.

The familiar redhead appeared round the door. “What? You’re already up?”

“And finished with breakfast,” her daughter laughed, getting to her feet and placing the now empty plate on the sideboard. She grinned at their lodger. “Thanks, Baron.  That was the best breakfast I’ve had in a long while. Remind me to ask you to make it again.”

Although Baron wasn’t wearing his stereotypical top hat, he pretended to tip the brow of an imaginary one. “My pleasure, my lady. And if it ensures you actually eat, then I’ll make you breakfast every morning.”

Haru laughed again. “You’re just spoiling me, now.”

“I’m just looking out for you.” Baron got to his feet and placed his empty plate beside Haru’s, moving afterwards to take another – full – plate from the oven. “Ms Yoshioka, if you also want a full English breakfast then there’s another one I kept warm in the oven,” he offered, placing it before one of the now empty chairs.

Naoko had been watching the interactions between her daughter and their lodger with mild shock. The surprise numbing her mouth, she just nodded her head and without protest took the offered seat. “I...” She blinked and her manners returned to her in force. “Thank you, Humbert. It looks lovely.”

Haru disappeared out of the kitchen to fetch her schoolbag and a thick jacket. She hovered by the door. “Hey, Baron; we should get going if you’re not going to be late to work and I’m not going to miss registration.”

“Point made.” Nodding his respect to the elder Yoshioka, the once-Creation left the kitchen to fetch the old black coat that had become a favourite due to its unrivalled ability to keep out the cold.

Naoko watched the young man leave and then motioned for Haru to come over to her. Wondering what they had done now, Haru trudged over to her mother and stood obediently by her side. “Is everything okay?”

The redhead placed her cutlery to one side and looked over at her daughter. “I just wanted to ask about the ‘Baron’ name you seem to refer to him as. Is there a reason for it?”

Haru reddened and quickly shook her head. “It’s a nickname that has sort of stuck. And, you know, the name Humbert doesn’t really suit him. He didn’t choose the nickname himself,” she supplied quickly, eager for her mother not to get the idea that he had deliberately chosen a title as a nickname; “it was just, kind of, given to him.”

Naoko thought through her daughter’s explanation and finally nodded. “Okay. I also wanted to say... well, that he is a better sort than I had originally classed him.”

“He’s a real gentleman,” Haru promised her mother. “And he really appreciates the fact that you’re letting him stay here.” She was grovelling, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want her mother to throw Baron out.

Naoko nodded again in the same slow, deliberate action. “I can see that. And I can also see that he cares about you a lot.”

“Like _friends_ do,” she insisted.

Her mother paused again, but in a manner that suggested she was deliberating whether to say something or whether it would be better to remain quiet. Eventually it looked like she had decided to say something else.

“From the impression I’ve received, he seems to be a decent guy,” she said steadily.

“So that means you like him?” Haru asked hurriedly. “You’re happy with him here?”

Naoko smiled. “I suppose it means I am.”

At that point Baron appeared at the doorway, coat pulled close around him. “Ready to brave the elements, Haru?” he asked, grinning.

“It seems that I’ll have to be.” Haru gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek and joined Baron by the door. “I’ll see you after school, Mum.”

Naoko waved her daughter and lodger goodbye and listened to their happy chatter as they exited the Yoshioka home.

ooOoo

“So what was all that about?” Baron asked. He glanced down at the brunette at his side, smiling slightly. “Whatever it was, it’s made you look like the cat that got the cream. Was it something your mother said?”

Grinning, Haru gave her companion a one-armed hug. “Let me put it this way: I think you’ve just earned the approval of your landlady,” she laughed.


	9. Friday 9th December 2011

_This heart that glows like an ember_

_Longs to be loved just by you._

_If it could be so_

_Then you’d keep me so_

_Warm in December too._

_x_

**Friday 9 th December 2011: This Heart**

“So what exactly is this place again?” Baron took another look at the unremarkable-looking barn-like structure, and tried not to think how warm it had been in the Yoshioka home. All the same, he pulled his coat close around him. It wasn’t that he hated the cold, _per say_ ; it was only that cold had never had such a physical effect on him. He couldn’t help wishing that someone had warned him that being human was so bitterly _cold_.

“A department store,” Haru answered coolly. She didn’t look quite as frozen as her companion, but then again, she did have eighteen years of experience in the matter of cold. “At this time of the year it’s always filled with Christmassy stuff. It’s warmer inside too,” she added flatly, after Baron had failed to reply.

“Is it? Good.”

She shook her head. “We’re going to have to get you some winter stuff – a hat or scarf or something.” She looked at his blue fingers. “Certainly gloves.”

He grinned, but his ragged breath came out like mist. “Thanks.”

Earlier – when the warmth from the shop was still keeping the goosebumps at bay – Haru had suggested that they added a few minutes of their journey to visit the store, considering the fact that the department wasn’t too much of a detour between school or the toyshop and home. By this point, Baron wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

“Every year we buy a few Christmas decorations from the store,” she had explained to Baron on the journey there. “Like a nativity set or a Christmas angel or something. And this place has the best stuff. And it’s not too expensive either.”

Now Baron was hoping it was certainly worth it. If only for his frostbitten fingers.

Haru looked over at her friend again, and sighed when she saw he was still freezing. Taking his arm, she dragged him inside the building before the cold could take a permanent hold on him. “Come on; it’s a nice place. And you can help with choosing the decorations.”

“I’m flattered.”

But he had to admit, it was more impressive on the inside than the outside had let on. Not to mention a great deal warmer. He supposed he really should have applied the ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ lesson here.

It wasn’t just the fact that it was packed full of... well, _stuff_ was the only term that really fitted, but also the variety of the stock. When Haru had mentioned they would be getting a few Christmas decorations, he had been expecting inflatable Santas and stuffed Rudolphs – all the stereotypical items found in the toyshop he was working in. Not mirror frames made from collected driftwood and teak furniture twisted into curving shapes and rows of scented candles ascending in spectrum order. For several moments he stood there, stunned.

Haru took his expression positively. “It’s cool, isn’t it?” she asked, grinning.

“Haru, when you said it was a shop...”

“Well, isn’t it technically?”

“This is more... a warehouse,” he said slowly.

“Meh. Warehouse, shop; same difference. Come on; if we want to get round the place in good time then we better start.” Picking a wicket basket from the side, she drifted over to the tall shelving consisting of the scented candles, and peered at the labels.

Baron followed behind and offered a hand for the basket. “Do you want me to carry that?”

Haru blinked, and seemed rather surprised by the suggestion. “Oh, um, okay.” She handed it over to him and grinned. “I’m just not used to having a gentleman around. I could get used to such VIP treatment.”

“I’m afraid it’s only going to last for a month.”

Haru grinned over at him, although it dimmed a little at the thought of the time restriction. “Well, I better make full use of it then.” She turned back to the shelving and inspected the candles with a vengeance, blinking rapidly. A month wasn’t that short... not when the miracle shouldn’t have happened to begin with. A blessing, however short, however long, was a blessing all the same. She had to remember that.

She had to remember that.

“Hey, Baron; have a look through some of these.”

He dutifully took the offered candle. “Are we purchasing these?” He brought the scented wax to his face and carefully inhaled its aroma.

“Nope,” Haru admitted. She grinned, and the action this time had gained a little of its sparkle. “I just like browsing this section.” She retrieved the candle and inspected it herself. “Oh, that one’s Christmassy. She turned it round in her hand and checked the label. “That would explain it. Cinnamon and frankincense.”

“Very classic,” Baron commented. He slipped another candle off the shelf and turned it round in his palm.

“Which one have you got there?”

“I think... it’s sage and green tea.”

Haru grinned. “Figures. Oh, they’ve got a whole Christmas section. This should be fun.” Swapping round the cinnamon candle with a ruby red one, she lifted it to Baron. “Don’t look – try and guess what it is.”

Obediently, and smiling at the brunette’s infectious good-humour, he closed his eyes and sniffed at the candle. “Some type of fruit? A red fruit?”

“You’re getting close.”

“Summer fruits?”

Haru giggled. “It’s in the Christmas section.”

“Ah. Cranberry?”

“Correct. Okay, now this one.”

Baron’s smile widened and he submissively followed Haru’s orders. “Some alcohol of some sort? Port?”

The brunette laughed again. “Port? Really? Is that the first alcoholic drink that comes to mind?”

“It’s Christmassy, isn’t it?” he defended.

“Yes, but it’s not it.”

Baron grimaced. “Okay, then is it mulled wine?”

“Indeed.”

Baron opened his eyes and swiped away the candle. “Right, now it’s your turn.” Ignoring her protesting, he plucked a jar from one of the higher shelves. “Close your eyes.”

Haru stuck out her tongue, but did so. When the candle was placed beneath her nose, a smile slipped over her face. “Mm, that smells delicious. Okay, now I’m hungry. What is it?”

“Sorry, you’ve got to guess.”

She pouted prettily at the once-Creation’s words. “Mm, well it smells like baking of some sort. Please, just tell me what it is; my stomach’s going to start growling!”

Chuckling, he withdrew the candle. “Alright, it was Christmas cookie.”

Haru peeked her eyes open. “How is that different to a normal cookie?”

He shrugged and chuckled. “Don’t ask me; I haven’t the faintest. You’re human, you tell me.”

She took the jar out of his hand and moved to return it to the shelf. “Come on; we should get moving or we won’t see the rest of the shop before we start heading back.” She paused at the shelving, having failed to find the candle’s true resting place. “Um, where did you get this from?”

“Here, let me.” Retrieving the item, Baron raised his arm to slot the jar two shelves above Haru’s head, gently leaning against the brunette for support. Haru tried to ignore the way their shoulders brushed. She attempted to laugh it off.

“Hey, no wonder I couldn’t find where to put it – you’re just cheating and using your height.”

Baron grinned down at her and lowered his arm. There was suddenly distance between their shoulders now. “Can you blame me when I’ve only been taller than you for a grand total of five days?” he teased.

“Six, if you include the Cat Kingdom adventure,” Haru added.

“Well, technically _you_ had shrunk...” Baron considered it, and then shrugged again. “If you want to pick a fight over my height, I’m afraid you’ll have to complain to Father Winter.”

Haru laughed. “No thanks. He might turn me into a snowflake or something.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a very pretty snowflake.”

“I’m sure I’ll make a very pretty patch of water when I melt,” Haru replied smoothly. Laughing, she tugged his sleeve and motioned in the direction of the rest of the store. “Come on; I still need to find something for home.”

It was like an Aladdin’s Cave; hoards of items stored across the building, hidden in every nook and cranny. One corner was decorated with bouquets of fake flowers; blooms of every shade filling one side of the wall. Around the edges wreathes, some of ivy green, others lined with sparkling snow, slowly giving way to a parade of Christmas foliage. Beyond that were cluttered collections of teak furniture and hand-carved statues, giving way further up to paintings; some classical, some layered and verging on 3D.

Haru, however, paused by the artificial Christmas wreathes, gazing round at the trees surrounding the area.

“Are you looking for something particular?”

The brunette picked up a miniature tree, a few inches taller than the length of her hand. “Do you have a Christmas tree for the Bureau?”

“In fact we do. All the same, thank you for thinking of us.”

Haru laughed. “Even if you’re not actually staying in the Bureau, you mean.”

“Even if I’m not actually staying in the Bureau, yes. I’m sure Frost will appreciate it though.”

Haru returned the mini tree back to its place on the shelf, smiling to herself. “I’m sure Jack will be quite capable of decorating the place himself, especially with magic on his side. Did he choose the Bureau or did he opt for one of the others?”

“I think he chose one of the other houses; in fact I believe he chose the clock tower.” Seeing Haru’s questioning gaze, he continued with, “Although the building has no clock, it somewhat resembles a clock tower from England. As such, it has acquired the title. However,” he added, smiling, “Jack Frost has already begun personalising the building with his magic. Now it resembles more of a tundra fortress.”

“It looks like you’ll have to think of a new name.”

“Something as original as ‘the old clock tower’?” he offered, grinning.

Haru laughed and moved along the shelving, eyes scanning the fake foliage for a Christmas decoration. “Hm, maybe something just _a little_ more original, and you know it.” Deciding that she wouldn’t find what she was looking for here, she moved along, wandering into the next section. This section was shaped like a hut; with the stalls rounding in a circle shape, and someone had inventively installed a wire framing over the top, entwined with more of the silver ivy garlands. Standing a few feet away was a twin structure, but this time colour-coded Christmas red and green instead of the icy blue and white colour scheme present in the current area.

Little boxes covered every surface, filled to the brim with Christmas knickknacks and decorations; blue and silver ribbons, glittering stars, sachets of silver dust. Haru absent-mindedly drifted past them, peering through the selection with the look of someone naturally curious, but not planning on purchasing the items.

“Found what you’re looking for yet?”

“Hm, no,” she murmured calmly. “Anything catch your interest?”

“I think the little pegs with the snowflakes on are quite sweet,” Baron commented, “although I’m not quite sure of their purpose as they are too small for hanging the washing on.”

“Oh, they’re not for washing; they’re for Christmas cards. See, you get this,” Haru instructed, pointing to a long roll of golden material, dotted with star-shaped holes, “and you peg the cards onto it. Hiromi has one at her home.” The brunette gave the items another look. “Actually, they’re a good idea.” Taking a roll of the material, she dropped it into the basket, quickly followed by a small plastic bag of the silver starred pegs. “Do you want to carry on looking?”

“Do we have time?”

Haru checked her watch. “We haven’t really got anything to go back to, but if we stay too long Mum will start to worry. Let’s go round the rest of the shop and then head back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They continued to wander through the shop, through the twin structures and round some of the less Christmassy sections before finding the seasonal area again. Baron would have called the section the toy department, but it was more like figurines. He had to smile to himself as he peered at the wooden nutcrackers and hand-carved reindeers, remembering that only a week ago he had been as wooden as them. Haru appeared to be thinking along the same lines, because she chuckled.

“Find a friend there, Baron?”

He picked up one of the nutcrackers, looking into the painted eyes staring out of the overgrown head; taking in the familiar red uniform, made familiar by the stereotype, and the also stereotyped white hair. “Maybe.”

She looked over his arm to see the figurine resting in the once-cat’s palm. “It isn’t a Creation, is it?” she suddenly asked.

He shook his head once. “No; I doubt anything in here is. Something loved so much to gain a soul would not end up in a department store like this.”

“You said you were in a shop once.”

“Because my owner was the keeper of it,” Baron reminded her. “I was not for sale.”

Haru made a slight sound in the back of her throat; unintentional and yet audible all the same. She earned a questioning look from Baron. “Sorry,” she apologised. “It’s just...” That same sound caught in her throat. “ _Owner_...” she repeated with distaste. “The whole concept seems so derogatory for something that’s alive.”

“Technically, I was never alive,” Baron reminded her softly. “Even if I was a wooden figurine with a soul.”

“You _are_ alive,” she disputed back. “You were _always_ alive.”

“I was aware,” he said in the same soft tone. “But that’s not quite enough, it seems.”

“Why? You could think, you could reason, you could feel... What more is needed?”

His gaze, like his tone, was soft. “You are sweet; you know that?” His hand took Haru’s. She noted it was still slightly cold, despite their time in the shop. “So sweet,” he echoed, almost to himself and so soft that Haru nearly didn’t catch it. “It is strange... to think back to the limitations of being a Creation. My mind told me what the world was like; that the snow was cold; that the rain was wet; that the sun was warm. My mind told me the bare facts so that I should extend my survival; that the snow was cold, I should keep myself warm; that the rain was wet, I should aim to keep myself dry; that the sun was warm, I was fine to stay outside.”

Haru listened mutely, stunned by his words. “That was all?” she asked quietly.

He smiled gently down at the brunette. “Like you said, what more is needed?” he echoed back.

“So much more is needed,” she responded strongly, shocked by the limitations of a Creation. “When it snows, you should race to the window, hoping, _wishing_ that it has snowed enough to gain a day off. You should grab a sledge and meet the other local kids at the top of the nearest hill and sledge until the slope is compressed and hollowed out into a runway. You should end the day drinking hot chocolate in front of a fire, roasting marshmallows and nodding off in front of a good film. When it rains, you should stand in front of the window and watch the rain pelt itself against the glass and watch pedestrians caught in the downpour run by. You should end up sitting in the car, glancing out and listening to the rain against the metal roof and hope it’ll stop before you have to get out, and end up running for the door anyway. You should grab an umbrella and make your way home; with the wind making you right it several times when it turns inside out and complain all the while. When it’s sunny, you should organise your friends to get together and go round town, and wish that you were close enough to the seaside to make a day trip. You should have a water fight in someone’s back garden, and if you haven’t got any water pistols you make do with water bottles. You should organise a picnic in the local park, squished between three other groups all with the same idea and buy ice creams at a ridiculously expensive price from the nearest ice-cream van.” She looked up at Baron fiercely. “ _That’s_ what it means to be alive.”

A smile, too wan for him, slipped across those human features. “So we seemed to have come around full circle. Am I, or am I not, alive?”

Haru opened her mouth, paused, and then shut it; trapped by her own words. She looked away. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she murmured guiltily.

“It is how you feel. I understand.”

Haru didn’t want to leave it there; didn’t want to leave her last words hanging in the air. “The fact is...” she tried. “I mean... It’s just that I always thought you were...more than that,” she finished with quietly. “I always thought of you as alive, no matter your Creation status.” She dropped back into silence for a few minutes longer; they both did. But when she felt the once-Creation at her side stir with the intention of moving the conversation on, she started up. “I mean,” she said quickly, almost confidently, “hasn’t anything ever made your heart pound and your head spin and made you feel... so much more?” she demanded.

And then he gave her a strange, unfamiliar look that made her feel like she was missing something vital, something obvious. Something that he could not bring himself to say. And then that look was gone and he was looking back at the wooden nutcracker, reflecting how similar he and the inanimate figurine were. “I have no heart,” he said hoarsely. His hand gripped tightly around the wooden chest where no heartbeat was – or ever would be – present. Just like him.

Haru hesitated, watching his expression fall away to be covered with a mask of indifference and found that she had to intercede. Slowly she brought her hand around the nutcracker and eased it out of his hold. His grip was so tight that at first she barely moved it, but then he released it and she was allowed to return it to the row of identical nutcrackers, all standing to perfect attention. Her hand then returned to his now empty palm and hesitantly curled around it. He didn’t resist and now she tentatively brought both their hands to his chest. “Feel that?” she whispered. “Perhaps you’re not so heartless after all.”


	10. Saturday 10th December 2011

_Deck the halls with boughs of holly,_

_Fa la la la la, la la la la_

_‘Tis the season to be jolly_

_Fa la la la la, la la la la_

_x_

**Saturday 10 th December 2011: ‘Tis the Season**

“So... remind me why I’m allowing you to drag me to a dead boring, ice-sculpting whatsit on a glorious Saturday, again?”

Haru scoffed and continued down the road. “Glorious Saturday? _Please_ ; my fingers are freezing off.”

“Okay: remind me why I’m allowing you to drag me to this dead boring, blah, blah, blah on a freezing Saturday when I could be catching up on work.”

Again, Haru scoffed. “Hiromi, when was the last time you actually did homework during the weekend?”

Her friend gave a dramatic sigh. “You know what I mean. What I mean _is_ : why are we going to this thing?”

“Because a friend recently started work here and I wanted to see how things were going.”

Hiromi raised an eyebrow. “Is this the ‘guy-friend-but-not-a-romantic-interest’ friend?”

Haru rolled her eyes and sighed, but less dramatically than her best friend. “Yep, Hiromi. And remember you’re taken.”

The lighter brunette grinned. “Oh, is he hot?”

“I was just saying because you’re prone to automatic flirtation mode when faced with the opposite sex,” Haru said wanly. “And, two, because he has his eyes on someone else so I really think it’d be a bad idea if you started flirting with him.”

“Why? Are you sweet on him?”

‘ _No, more like because Jack Frost might just turn you into an icicle_ ,’ Haru’s mind answered. However, she felt that response would raise too many questions that would require too many lies, and so just said, “Hiromi, you know how I feel about Baron; do you really think I’m going to move onto another guy so quickly?”

Her friend grinned and just shrugged. “You never know.”

Haru laughed and shoved the other girl. “Does the fact we’ve been friends since we were kids mean _nothing_ to you?”

Hiromi ducked away to avoid the full shove of Haru, still grinning. “Hey, you know there are two levels of politeness: the first kind where you’re super nice to people you don’t know, and the second type, where you’re just rude. The second type is meant to be even more polite than the first.”

“Only under certain circumstances!” Haru replied, laughing back. “So, what you’re basically saying is the ruder I am to you, the politer it is?”

“Hm, apparently.”

Haru grin became wicked. “Alright.”

Seeing the evil glint enter her friend’s eyes, Hiromi ducked away – and just in time, because a moment later Haru’s bag swung through the air where she had just been. Jogging away, Hiromi stuck her tongue out at the other brunette. “Nah, missed me.”

“I was only being _polite_.”

“Well then, I guess it’s only fair that I return the favour!” Raising her own bag in attack, Hiromi chased her friend down the street, the pair of them yelling and shouting. However, their game was brought to an abrupt stop when Haru misjudged the iciness of the pavement and, instead of rounding the corner, slipped rather neatly into a bush. She emitted a rather shocked squeak and disappeared into the evergreen leaves.

Hiromi dropped her bag to her side and moved to help her friend out, stepping rather gingerly on the spot where Haru had skidded; all thoughts of fooling around gone.

“You okay? You didn’t sprain anything or something?”

Haru raised her hands to show that she was still alive – and to add to that; conscious and able to move. “Yeah, I’m fine. Give me a hand up.”

Hiromi offered a hand and Haru’s outstretched one took it quite gratefully and the darker brunette was brought back onto her feet. Hiromi winced when she saw the state of the Haru’s palms. “Those cuts look rather nasty... Do you think we should get them seen to?”

The taller girl looked over at her hands, experimentally flexing them. The rather tender manner in which she did so suggested that the cold made the cuts sting. The crisscross of scratches obtained on entering the bush extended further down her hand, to her wrist and a few had made it as far as her lower arm, but it seemed only her hands had bourn the brute of the fall. “I’m just glad that my instinctive actions stopped the branches from scratching my face, actually,” she wasn’t afraid to admit, raising her hands once again before her head to show Hiromi her automatic reaction to the initial slip. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“Yeah, but do you think we should get them seen to? I mean, your hands looked a little cut up right now.”

“They’ll heal,” Haru dismissed. “If you’re that worried, Hiromi, we can ask for some first aid at the conference hall. Place as big as that is bound to have some somewhere.” Flexing her hands a last time to ensure that they weren’t about to fall off, Haru hide her palms inside her coat pockets, revealing in the little warm the pockets possessed. “Come on, are we going to this thing or not? Forget about the cuts; my fingers are going to get frostbite any time soon.”

Sighing and rolling her eyes in her stereotypical dramatic manner, Hiromi took Haru by the elbow and good-naturedly dragged more than guided her friend in the direction of the conference centre. “Trust you to play it down.”

“I don’t like to be a nuisance,” Haru answered as she was hauled into the centre; blessed warmth flooding her system as they passed the heaters placed mercifully beside the entrance. “You know that.”

“Don’t I just! Knowing you, you’d probably drop dead before you admitted you needed help. _And_ you’d think you were doing everyone a favour,” Hiromi added with vengeance.

Haru smiled astutely as they entered the exhibition room. “Admit it, Hiromi; you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“Only because you’re my best friend. Insulting you is fine; trying to change you is another matter.” Sighing again in the same dramatic manner, Hiromi shook her head. “Alright, let’s just look round this thing and then start using our Saturday productively. Like shopping!” she added energetically, already brighter-eyed by the prospect.

“You are so unbelievable.” Shaking her own head, but in a gentler action, Haru started to look round the display room.

When Baron had said it was an ice-sculpting exhibition, Haru wasn’t sure what she’d exactly been expecting. Perhaps small icy statues for sale, or vague blocks of ice claiming to be ‘modern art’. Well, there were a few small statues standing on tables, but as examples of work rather than for sale. And, across the room _were_ large blocks of ice, but in the process of being refined; artists making general progress in their work, in several different manners. One artist starting on a fresh block was – to Haru’s horror and interest – using a chainsaw to make the first impressions on the ice. Well, she supposed, they probably would take forever if they started carefully chipping it away from the beginning.

As they walked through the surprisingly busy room, she saw that not all the artists were using the huge blocks. A few were sculpting away on ice squares about the width, depth and height of an arm-length. Some of them had evidently done quite a few as delicately carved statuettes were exhibited further along the tables.

Haru tore her eyes away from the sparkling collection; a little smugly noting to herself that Hiromi seemed as enamoured by the display as she was, since she hadn’t complained again yet. She scanned the room for two people she knew should be there.

“Baron said he would meet us here...” she murmured, feeling slightly put-out that he hadn’t arrived on time. “I wonder what’s kept him...”

Hiromi snorted; Haru’s words breaking the enchanting spell that had settled over her – not that Haru had expected it to last for long. “Boy, you really are besotted, aren’t you? He’ll come when he comes. He’s probably just been asked to do an extra job before he goes or something.”

“Hm,” Haru replied in a tone as non-committal as she could manage. She didn’t comment further on the ‘besotted’ category she appeared to have been unceremoniously dumped into. Finally spotting the other face she had been looking for, she suddenly set off, grabbing Hiromi’s arm in the process and dragging her behind. “Come on; it’s time I introduced you to a friend.”

She heard Hiromi brighten up behind her. “Which friend? The hot one who works here?”

Haru growled and continued to drag her friend, although she was starting to question the wisdom of asking Hiromi to come along. And at the time it had seemed like such a _good_ idea... “I never said he was hot,” she said tightly. “But, yes, he’s the one who works here.”

“Oh, good. I was wondering when I would get to meet him.”

Continuing to seriously question the wisdom of her own judgement, Haru arrived at the edge of the room and waved over at Jack Frost. The now-human, once-spirit was dressed in the black uniform that all the guards were required to wear, looking strangely natural in the clothing. Seeing the two brunettes, he gave a cold nod but didn’t move from his spot.

Ignoring the icy demeanour, Haru hauled herself and Hiromi over to his side. “Hey, Jack. We decided we’d come and see how the job’s going. I thought you were just filling in as a guard.”

Haru had forgotten just how naturally cold those icy blue eyes were. “The guard is still ill,” he said shortly. Despite their almost polite conversation that had occurred between them on their first meeting, it appeared that the ex-spirit wasn’t so good on the good manners front. His eyes travelled over to the shorter brunette, with a look that could almost have been considered curiosity, if Haru hadn’t known better. “Who is the girl?” he asked.

Either completely oblivious to Jack’s tone, or just preferring to ignore it, Hiromi stuck out a hand. “I’m Hiromi, Haru’s best friend!” She waited for him to take it in a handshake and the seconds stretched uncomfortably out. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging here,” she laughed.

Jack considered the hand with the same kind of look that he might reserve for the lowest form of bug, his lip curling slightly with contempt. “Miss Hiromi,” he said slowly, coldly, “I don’t know what your action means, or how exactly you are ‘hanging’, but it doesn’t appear all that humorous to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job I am meant to be doing.”

“Doesn’t seem like much of a job to me,” Hiromi grumbled, just loud enough for Jack to hear. She made it sound as if she hadn’t meant for the words to be audible, but Haru knew Hiromi’s nature too well to be fooled by that. “You just stand on a corner for an hour and daydream.”

“Oh look!” Haru interrupted hurriedly. She could feel Jack’s gaze get steadily colder and another biting retort rise to his lips. “It looks like Baron’s arrived.” She grabbed her friend’s arm, but paused as she passed Jack to irately whisper, “We _so_ need to work on your people skills,” before rushing off into the crowds.

“Well, he was a barrel of laughs,” Hiromi commented flatly as they left the guard behind them. “I think you should stick with Baron. Talking of your beau, where is he?”

“He is _not_ my beau,” Haru insisted.

“Yeah, but you wish he were,” she sang back.

Haru pushed further through the crowds, trying desperately to casually roll her eyes. “Honestly, Hiromi, you are just... _unbelievable_.”

“I know.”

“Please don’t sound so smug about it.”

“I can’t help it and– _Ooh_...”

Haru sighed as her friend disappeared from her view; reappearing a little further away at the stall of a young female artist, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the glittering ice sculptures.

“Would it be terribly unfair if I compared your friend to a magpie?”

Haru grinned, and turned about to see the familiar form of Baron. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I’m sure Hiromi and I have called each other much worse things. I think it comes with the best friend territory.” Her grin widened a notch and, semi-guiltily, glanced to where her friend was still distracted. “And, don’t worry; I don’t think she heard you.”

He grinned back. “That’s a relief; I can tell you. And have you seen our winter-spirit-in-residence?”

“I have indeed.” Haru made a nod in Frost’s direction. “We have our work cut out though, I can tell you.” There was a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat that suggested just what she thought of the once-spirit.

“And why would that be?”

“Well, let’s just say that he needs a few lessons in common courtesy and leave it at that.”

“He is unfamiliar with our customs,” Baron excused calmly. “You cannot expect him to adjust so suddenly.”

“No, but even a spirit must have _some_ conception of manners and–” She cut herself off and gave Baron a surprised, but searching, look. “You said ‘our’,” she commented.

“What?”

"‘Our,’” she repeated. “‘ _Our_ customs,’ you said.”

“Mistake,” he quickly supplied. “Mistake,” he repeated, with an attempt at a more confident answer; “that was all. Just a mistake.” The smile he passed Haru’s way didn’t quite ring true though. He hurriedly looked away – was that a slight flush passing over his features?

“Hey, Haru; come and have a look at these sculptures!”

Like magic, Hiromi appeared out of the blue and pulled at Haru’s sleeves. Haru was never given a chance to consider what Baron’s little slip-up might have meant.

“Oh, hiya Baron. So you _are_ here. And here I was, thinking that Haru had just pretended that she had seen you to get out of that awkward situation with the guard-dude.” The lighter brunette grinned guiltily over at her friend, who she was still keeping a firm grip on. “Come _on_ , Haru; you can bring your boyfriend along, but I want to introduce you to Elspeth. She’s doing a new sculpture and it’s really weird to just see her tapping away at the ice–”

Haru tugged herself free from Hiromi’s usually vice-like grip and whacked her friend over the head with the now-free hand. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend!” She quickly turned around and looked apologetically at Baron. “Sorry – she seems to think that if I as much as talk to a guy, he must be a flame of mine or something.”

“But, _you_ said–”

Haru’s hand quickly covered Hiromi’s hand before the other girl could say anything. “You said something about meeting an Elspeth?” she interrupted desperately. “Sounds like a good idea to me. What about you, Baron?”

The once-Creation tilted his head subtly in confusion at Haru’s abrupt question, but dutifully nodded. “Indeed. Let us meet this artist.”

Haru flashed him a quick smile and now allowed Hiromi to drag her off; Baron following behind.

They came to one of the smaller displays; the young woman standing at it was in the process of chipping away the barest beginnings of an outline into the ice. She paused and looked up from her task, as if sensing their presence before their destination had been made clear. Placing her tools to once side, the woman smiled over at them.

“Hello again, Miss Hiromi. I see you brought along your friends.”

“Sure did!” Hiromi enthused. She pointed at the two humans following her like sheep. “That’s Haru, my best friend, and that’s Baron... Well, his real name is Humbert, but everyone calls him Baron.”

To Haru’s surprise, Baron stepped forward and offered the woman a hand. “It is a pleasure meeting you,” he greeted in his usual smooth voice. “Elspeth... That is quite an uncommon name, is it not?”

The young artist nodded, looking over at the newcomer with vague interest. “It was my grandmother’s name.”

“You’re not Elspeth Moroz, by chance?”

The woman blinked, and then nodded. “Indeed, I am. How did you know?”

“I’ve heard of a young ice artist by the name of Elspeth Moroz – I can’t imagine there are many Elspeths in your profession.” Baron looked over at Haru, seeing if she had also picked up the connection.

 She had and she quickly moved forward to also shake the woman’s hand, offering a greeting of her own. Now she took another look at the woman – the woman who had, without the slightest knowledge, stolen the heart of Jack Frost – internally wincing at the uncannily cold palm of Elspeth’s. And yet the young artist seemed unaffected by the temperature. She supposed that was a must for her job, but still, she seemed eerily at home in the near sub-zero temperatures. She wore a fitted jacket, but with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows which almost seemed to make it redundant. Practical short, dark hair was cropped around her face – her face, which, like Jack’s, was sharp, but in a much more feminine style. And, even if her skin was naturally pale, her stormy-grey eyes lacked the coldness that Jack’s did.

All-in-all, even with her slightly wintery appearance, she was warmer than Frost had ever been.

‘ _Good luck to Jack,’_ Haru found herself thinking _. ‘He’s going to need it._ ’


	11. Sunday 11th December 2011

_O little town of Bethlehem,_

_How still we see thee lie;_

_Above thy deep and dreamless sleep_

_The silent stars go by,_

_Yet in the dark streets shineth_

_The everlasting Light;_

_The hopes and fears of all the years_

_Are met in thee tonight_

_x_

**Sunday 11 th December 2011: Hopes and Fears**

Sunday dinner was always a family affair. Had always been. It was a tradition Naoko had maintained through the years, and she had never forgone a Sunday roast if she could avoid it. The leftover meat usually sustained a few sandwiches and wraps for the rest of the week. And, for eighteen years, the established family meal had consisted of two individuals.

Today it consisted of three.

Last Sunday was the day Baron had originally arrived – had it only been a week? Haru wondered; it felt so much longer than that – and Naoko had supplied him with some leftovers that, once heated in the microwave, were actually rather nice, but still didn’t quite compare to a Sunday roast. But something had shifted in Naoko’s opinion of the young man, and today she had invited him to join them.

Baron _had_ offered to cook, but she had neatly turned him down.

And so, it was three of them that sat down to eat at the Yoshioka dinner table that evening. The first few bouts of conversation were polite exchanges on topics such as how yesterday had gone, how work was going, how Hiromi was faring... Generally accepted ‘safe’ topics, Haru noted. She couldn’t help thinking that Naoko’s curiosity on the subject of Baron hadn’t quite been satiated, all the same. It was probably some part of a mother’s natural worry for her child.

“It seems slightly surreal to think you’ve only been with us for a week already,” the redhead commented, her thought taken almost directly from Haru’s mind. “You’ve settled down very quickly here though.”

Baron paused in his meal to nod his head respectfully. “Thank you.”

“It will feel rather unusual to have only two in the house when you leave,” Naoko continued calmly, her grey eyes flickering over at Baron. “But I expect the normal routine will get back rather quickly. And I expect you will be rather relieved to leave our sofa.” Her words had all the tools to be sympathetic and/or sad to think of him leaving, and while they may have contained some note of those emotions, it was more of a gentle prodding inquisitiveness that filled her tone. General approval he may have from Naoko, but he still hadn’t been fully accepted, it seemed.

Baron dutifully nodded his head again, his gaze carefully measured – a trait, it appeared, that had transferred from the change from Creation to Human. “I much appreciate your kindness in allowing me to stay,” he tactfully replied. And then, with a smile; “The sofa is not as uncomfortable as it looks.”

Haru coughed over what might have been a snort on her part. Lowering her head in the pretence of eating, she attempted to cover her mouth to hide the smile. “Lie,” she muttered to Baron.

He smiled back. “And how would you know that?”

“Oh, please; did you not see the state of yourself on Monday?” Haru laughed. She appealed to her mother. “Mum, back me up here. Did he, or did he not, look like he had been dragged through a bush backwards?”

Naoko tilted her head, half-smiling. “The sofa _did_ take its toll on you,” she admitted.

Baron lifted his hands helplessly. “By all the worlds, what am I meant to do? The two of you are banding against me!”

“Argh, there is only one course of action left,” Haru said, baring her fork in Baron’s direction. She had deliberately dropped her voice to a growling pirate accent, rolling her ‘r’s and roughening her ‘c’s to make the impact. “You must surrender, laddie.”

“Surrender? _Never_!”

The three of them laughed and settled back down to their meal, a funny sort of contentment that Haru hadn’t felt in her house for a long time falling softly around them. They hadn’t had a Sunday roast like this in... Well, Haru could easily say ever. They had never had a masculine presence at their table before.

Haru couldn’t help thinking that it was a nice presence.

Time passed them by; food was eaten, the plates were tidied away, the chores were distributed out. The chore of washing up fell on the two youngest members, both who accepted the responsibility without hassle and both were left to the task.

“Alright, I’m drying up.”

Baron blinked, but patiently accepted the dish cloth that had been unceremoniously dumped into his hands. “I take it then that I am washing up?”

Haru tugged a tea towel off the side. “Yep.”

“Is there a reason for your decision or is the drying up a personal favourite of yours?”

The brunette grinned. “Actually, I was just thinking that it’d be easier for you to do the washing up, because at least you wouldn’t have to ask where everything was to put it away. Honestly, don’t you trust me?” she teased.

“I trust you a great deal,” Baron said quietly.

Haru, who until this point had been leaning against the table, tea towel wrung casually between her hands, moved forward, surprised and touched by his sincerity. “I trust you too, Baron,” she replied softly. “I always have.”

Baron’s eyes, for the briefest of moments, alighted on the young woman. There was some deep-buried emotion hidden in those eyes, an emotion that Haru felt she hadn’t meant to see. And then Baron returned his eyes back to the task at hand and twisted the handle of the tap to turn the water flow off and, in the mistake of forgetting which way the handle turned, promptly increased the water flow to a thunderous surge. Spilling water everywhere, and the two of them laughing, the mistake was quickly corrected.

It was almost enough for Haru to be convinced she had imagined that look.

ooOoo

Sometimes it is as if a person is only allowed so much peace in one day.

It was that thought that passed through Haru’s mind as Toto arrived at the window and tapped his black beak against the frosted glass. It was that thought that reiterated itself as the Crow Creation informed the pair of them that Jack Frost was attending an employees’ Christmas party that had been set up in the now-cleared up Conference Centre – this Jack Frost being the same Jack Frost who had yet to develop common courtesy in his daily manner – with plans to finally talk to Elspeth face-to-face.

The thought was becoming somewhat redundant as Haru grabbed a coat and, with Baron following suit, exited the Yoshioka residence, shouting a quick – if untrue – explanation to her mother.

As she quick-marched towards the Conference Centre, all thoughts gave way to the stony fact that it was _freezing_ outside.

“All things considered,” Baron started, his words coming out in punctuated gasps as the cold blocked his throat, “perhaps it would be advantageous for Jack to initially meet Elspeth independently.”

Haru gave a hoarse laugh that congealed as mist in the frosty air. “I don’t believe that, and neither do you. That’s just the cold speaking.”

Hurrying down the street, collar turned up against the chilling wind, Baron tried to laugh. His result was significantly poorer than Haru’s; he suspected that after eighteen years of being human, Haru had come to terms with cold a lot better than he was currently. “So perhaps the temperature is having an adverse effect on my spontaneity. I am only glad that the Conference Centre is so close to your house.”

“Meh, me too. Anyway, I know Jack has been helping at the centre since Wednesday, but you also said you got the impression that he hasn’t actually talked to Elspeth yet.” Haru paused in thought; her feet still automatically leading her towards the building in an innate instinct to find warmth. She laughed after a moment; this attempt was a much more natural sound. “I suppose even winter spirits can get shy.”

As if the effect of Haru’s laugh had enabled his own, Baron laughed alongside her. He was relieved to note that it also sounded less cold-ridden. “Indeed. I suppose it would be best if we were there to offer assistance.”

“Especially since today was the last day of the exhibition.”

“Indeed,” Baron repeated.

Haru paused, this time physically as well as verbally. She looked strangely at her friend, as if hearing the thought processes whirring away inside his head. “Baron... what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking.”

“Are you to penalise me for engaging in thought?”

“If you’re not going to share that thought, yes.”

He grinned fondly at her. “Then I will share what is on my mind. It was merely a thought of where Elspeth will be heading to now the exhibition is over. If she is leaving the town, then we have a problem on our hands.”

“Perhaps she’ll be staying nearby. Baron, let’s not expect the worst until we know what is actually happening.”

“It is always best to plan for the worst.”

“Ah. I see.” Haru rocked on her heels, smirking at Baron. “And when you rushed into the ballroom back in the Cat Kingdom, did you plan for the worst then? Like the escape route out of the room – I expect that you knew perfectly well that Yuki would be able to show us a tunnel to the outside.”

“Well, I–”

“And when we were entering the maze, I expect you had a back-up plan or some inkling on how to foil the Cat King’s cheating? I doubt you needed me to point out the fact that the walls were moving.”

“To be precise–”

“And when we were running up the tower, I suppose you were completely aware that the steps would give way when the guards threatened to block our way.”

“That was–”

“And when the tower blew up–”

“Enough!” Baron cried, surrendering with both hands raised in defence. “I give in! I admit defeat!”

Haru grinned and started across the pavement again, her sturdy boots hitting the almost-frozen ground with rhythmic beat. “Admit it, Baron; you got lucky.”

In several long, quickened strides, the once-Creation easily caught up with the girl. He grinned back and – mostly subconsciously – took her hand in his. “I know I’m lucky, I won’t deny it. However, you must give me _some_ credit for your successful return to the Human World.”

“Oh, I give you credit for it; I just don’t believe you were particularly forward-planning for the rescue.”

“It succeeded, did it not?”

Haru laughed. “Only just, Baron. Only just.”

Arriving at the columned entrance of the Conference Centre, the pair of them were quickly able to trace the location of the party by the unmistakable beat of music. Once the correct room had been found, it was almost too easy to blend in with the rest of the crowd.

Baron tapped Haru’s shoulder and pointed to a familiar form standing at the edge. As Haru could have guessed, Jack Frost wasn’t all that comfortable with crowds – particularly, it seemed, crowds in a confined space with music blaring out of large black speakers. His piercing eyes trailed uneasily after the dark-haired beauty Haru and Baron had identified as Elspeth the day before.

“What are you two doing here?”

Unaffected by Jack’s cold tone, Baron and Haru joined his side. Baron couldn’t help noticing that the room was still cold, even after the ice sculptures had been moved out – or melted, whichever was more convenient. Most of the occupants seemed oblivious to the room temperature – he supposed in their particular occupation such indifference was part and package.

“We’d thought we’d join you,” Haru said brightly.

“This party is only for employees,” Jack told them darkly.

“We thought you could perhaps do with some assistance,” Baron added calmly.

“I do not need your help.”

“So when are you actually going to speak to Elspeth?”

“I...” The once-spirit reddened, and frowned down at Haru. “That is none of your business!”

“I’m afraid it was from the moment Father Winter asked for the Cat Bureau’s support in your task.”

“Excuse me, Sir.” Jack had only got as far as opening his mouth when the guard – bouncer, whatever – arrived at their group. The guard – a young man in his middle twenties, who looked like he had been hired specifically to watch over the event – glanced to Haru and Baron. “But are you two invited to this event? Where are your passes?

Thinking on her feet, Haru pointed to Jack. “I’m his plus one.”

“I... see.” The guard looked to the still thickly wrapped up in his black coat form of Baron. “And you?”

Baron pointed to Haru, unfamiliar with these circumstances. “I’m her plus one.”

“You’re a plus one’s plus one?”

“That’s right.”

“Is... I mean...” The young man just shook his head, evidently labelling the whole affair as unorthodox and deciding to leave the unusual matter there. He turned his gaze to Jack. “Sir, do you know these people?”

Jack Frost looked at his two companions; if he said no, they would almost certainly be escorted out, leaving him to talk to Elspeth independently. For a moment he considered it.

“Yes. I do.”

The guard looked at the rather sheepish figures of Haru and Baron, markedly still trying to work out whether it would be more or less hassle to ignore their serious flaw in logic in their explanation. Apparently, it was easier to let it slide, since a moment later he was moving away.

Haru sighed, relief flooding her senses. “Thank you, Jack.”

“Fine,” he grunted. “But this doesn’t mean I need your help,” he quickly added, coldness once again seeping into his tone like a particularly low-lying mist. “I just thought you might enjoy the party.”

Rolling her eyes at Jack’s stubborn-as-a-mule streak, Haru crossed her arms. “Fine. Okay then, if you’re so competent without us, why don’t you go and say hello to Elspeth now?”

“Okay then, I _will_.”

Baron watched Jack Frost stalk away from them, towards the table where the young artist was standing. “Do you think that was a good idea?”

“Meh.” Haru shrugged, as if it didn’t particularly bother her. “If it goes well, then evidently Jack has been brushing up on his human interactions. If not... well, at least we’re on hand to help, even if he doesn’t want to ask for it.”

“What if he makes a mistake?”

“Make a fool of himself, you mean?”

Haru watched as Jack fell foul to a bout of stuttering – and even though she was sympathetic for his cause, she couldn’t help grinning a little at the very un-Jack-like manner. His usually pale-white face began to flush up as words muddled themselves round in his mouth, and a moment later he had accidently upset the glass in Elspeth’s hand, knocking the contents – mercifully – across the floor and not over the girl herself.

“Like that, you mean?” Haru asked.

“Exactly like that.”

Haru watched for a few seconds longer as Jack reddened further – probably, Haru guessed, apologising and promising to get a new drink (at least, she _hoped_ that was the case) – and at this point, the brunette decided it would be a good idea to intervene.

“Come on; I suspect Jack needs some support to ensure he doesn’t die of embarrassment right now.”

It appeared, as the pair of them approached the group, that Elspeth wasn’t particularly upset by the accident; in fact, as they got closer, they could hear the young artist try to consol the panic-stricken Jack Frost, telling him that it could happen to anyone, or that at least it had spilt only onto the floor and that it was easily cleaned up, and that she could very easily get another glass of mulled wine...

Elspeth grinned as she saw the pair arriving, and motioned for them to stop by her – unaware that she was their destination anyway. “Evening,” she greeted. Haru hadn’t picked it up before, but there was a distinctly foreign lilt to her accent; something slightly rough and rural – but all the same complimenting her voice. “I didn’t know that you worked at the exhibition. Why didn’t you say before?”

Haru grinned back, but maintained a slightly guilty air. “Ah, well we don’t technically work here. We’re kind of crashing the party.”

Elspeth’s grin widened mischievously. “Ah, so you don’t want to attract the guards’ attentions then?” She winked at the pair of them. “I won’t ask Harry over then. Anyway, if you’re not employed here, what brought you to the party in the first place? Or are you just looking for free drinks?”

Haru quickly shook her head. “Actually, we know Jack here – we thought he could do with a friendly face. Isn’t that right?” she asked sweetly, addressing her question to the still-distressed Jack.

“What? I... Well... Yes, I suppose.”

“You know Jack?” Elspeth laughed, although it wasn’t aimed at Jack’s expense. “You should have arrived about a minute earlier and saved him from knocking over my drink. But, all’s well; nothing was irreplaceably damaged. Remind me of your names again; it was Haru and Baron, wasn’t it?”

Haru had to admit she was surprised by the remembrance. “Yes. But... how...?”

Elspeth laughed again. “I’m very good with names and faces. And your friend brightened my day by having heard of me. I’m not that well known, so to have someone remember there was an artist by the name of Elspeth Moroz left me smiling for the rest of the day.”

“I am glad I left such a positive impact, Miss Elspeth–”

The young artist waved it away. “Please, just call me Elsie. I told Jack to, and everyone else does.”

“Well then, Elsie, I’m glad my presence was such an encouraging one. And, your accent... Is it Scottish?”

Elspeth’s – Elsie’s, Haru reminded herself – face brightened up. “Yes, yes it is. Have you been to Scotland?”

“Not as such, but I do have my British origins.”

“That makes us practically neighbours. I grew up in Scotland, but my job led me here. I’m staying with my uncle and aunt who live in the area currently.”

Elsie and Baron were getting on too well for Jack’s liking; Haru could see it in the ex-spirit’s rapidly-narrowing gaze. And she couldn’t pretend it didn’t irk her just a little bit. She tapped Baron on the shoulder and smiled innocently. “Hey, Baron; would you be okay with getting me some mulled wine? This packed room is making me thirsty.”

“Certainly.”

“Oh, and I could do with a glass too,” Elsie spoke up. She smiled warmly. “I never got the chance to drink my first one.”

Baron tipped an imaginary hat to the two women, and disappeared off into the crowds. Haru saw Jack send her a grateful – grateful? He was actually grateful to her? What was the world coming to? – glance before looking back to Elsie. “I’ve been to Scotland a few times,” he commented.

Knowing Jack’s true identity, Haru expected it was true, even if the details weren’t quite what Elspeth imagined.

“Really? Where did you go?”

“Oh, here and there. The winters there are quite beautiful.”

The young artist smiled; this time her warmth was directed to Jack. “Oh, indeed. No one ever seems to believe me – they just ask wasn’t it cold, and leave it at that. Like I said, I grew up there, and I partially blame that for my indifference to cold and my choice of occupation.” She shrugged. “I enjoy what I do, even if other people find it a little... different.”

“I think your ice sculptures are amazing.”

There was a pause as all three of them considered Jack’s answer; even Jack himself seemed a little surprised at his own words. Elsie seemed to sense that Jack wasn’t usually so free with his praise, and Haru just knew that Jack wasn’t one to admit admiration.

“Why, I... Thank you.” Elspeth smiled again; her sharp features quickly melted away with the glow of warmth. “That means a lot to me,” she said, quieter this time. “What’s your name? You never gave a surname.”

“Jack. Jack Frost.”

“Like the winter sprite?”

“I guess his family couldn’t resist naming him Jack with that surname,” Haru quickly cut in. For now, at least, skirting round the truth was easier than the explanation that would come with the facts. She hoped Jack also saw that.

“Well, Jack, Jack Frost, perhaps we could meet again at some point. I’m staying in town with relatives until the twentieth, which is when I’m flying back to my family, but perhaps we could see each other before then.”

“Good! Excellent!” Jack reddened – Haru almost laughed at that, he actually _blushed_ – and quickly took on a more dignified tone. “I mean... yes, I would like to see you again.”

“Well, I know a nice restaurant on Duchess Street – what about dinner there tomorrow evening?”

“That sounds... excellent.” He carefully measured his tone this time to prevent any over-enthusiastic answers springing from his mouth. “What time?”

“Half six sound good to you? You and Baron could come too,” Elsie said, turning to Haru. “That would perhaps make it more comfortable.”

“No!”

Jack and Haru looked at each other, shocked by their synchronised response. Jack, Haru knew, felt that Baron was competition. But Haru... she didn’t know why she had reacted so strongly. She _didn’t_ feel that Elspeth was competition for Baron... Of course she didn’t. Baron was just being his usual gentlemanly self in that conversation...

She kept trying to tell herself that.

Elspeth watched the pair of them, her stormy grey eyes wide and politely shocked. “Or... maybe not.”

“Baron has work tomorrow evening,” Jack put in. He was lying. “Haru could make it though, I suppose.”

Haru knew what was in Jack’s mind. Baron was competition; Haru could possibly make the dinner less awkward. She nodded. “I think half six would be fine.”

“Well... Good then. What if I bring along someone else, and then we’d have a four?” Elspeth still looked a little surprised.

“Who would be the additional person?”

“My cousin.”

Jack looked visibly relieved. Cousin was good; cousin was fine. Cousin meant no competition from that corner. “I see no reason why not. Half six at the restaurant then?”

“Agreed.”


	12. Monday 12th December 2011

_Good King Wenceslas looked out_

_On the feast of Stephen_

_When the snow lay round about_

_Deep and crisp and even._

_Brightly shone the moon that night,_

_Though the frost was cruel,_

_When a poor man came in sight_

_Gath’ring winter fuel_

_x_

**Monday 12 th December 2011: Feast**

“I’m not sure whether I like this arrangement or not.”

“Everything’s _fine_ , Baron. Honestly, you’re worse than my mother.”

“I worry.”

Haru’s sceptical expression was thrown into high definition as they passed beneath another set of streetlights. At twenty-five past six, the sun had set a couple of hours back, so even at this time of day it was depressingly dark outside.

Light had never been a problem for Baron. Thanks to his Creation magic, he had been able to summon light, no matter the time of day. Considering the Bureau’s location and availability – or, rather, lack of availability – to electricity, his ability had made life much easier.

Haru had mentioned something called SAD – seasonal affected disorder – and now he wondered whether once-Creations could get it. The grey, rolling-mist days invoked glumness far easier than they should have done. Not for the first time since his transformation, he wondered how Humans got through their mundane day-to-day living.

“There’s no need to worry – Elsie is a lovely person, and Jack – for all his moaning and distance – isn’t so bad. Heck, at times he seems almost human.” Haru laughed, but her laugh was lost quickly in the whine of cars speeding past.

“I still don’t see why I could not have accompanied you.”

“It’s simple. Jack sees you as competition.”

“I have no feelings for Miss Elspeth.”

They passed under another streetlamp, and Haru’s slightly raised eyebrow came into the light. “Perhaps not, but you _were_ somewhat stealing the limelight away from Jack. He’s finding this hard enough without having to battle against you for Elsie’s attentions.”

“Why are you so sympathetic towards him? While you have admitted that he is not so bad over the last few days, this is the first time you have displayed empathy for him.”

Haru stopped, her arms crossing her with a thoughtful air. With the nearest streetlight being a good ten paces away, the light shed fell only partially over her face, leaving the other half in shade. “I don’t know, but when he first tried to talk to Elsie, he just seemed so... _human_. Before then he had been slightly stuck-up and aloof, but... I don’t know. Look, he just isn’t as good with people as you are. Give him a little space to earn Elsie’s attentions.”

“You are more accustomed to dealing with humans, and he seems comfortable with you going.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a girl,” Haru said flatly.

There was a highly awkward pause.

Haru sighed, and, rubbing the bridge of her nose, tried again. “Look; I’ll put it plainly. Baron, you are a young man with excellent, gentlemanly manners, pretty brilliant conversational skills, and you’re not too bad-looking, to boot.” Haru’s words came out in a rush; even in the weak streetlamp glow, her blush was visible. “Jack’s worried that Elsie might be more interested in _you_ than him.”

There was another pause, in which Haru refused to meet Baron’s gaze.

“Forgive me,” Baron finally said. “I did not mean to make the conversation uncomfortable. I am merely uneasy with just dropping you off like this. Especially at this time of the evening.”

“I’ll make it back fine, Baron. There is no need for you to fret.”

“I’ll walk you back – to ensure that you get home safely.”

Haru laughed and shook her head, picking up her feet and continuing along the street “Really, there’s no need. You are such a terrible worrier.”

 “Can you blame me?”

“Well, I won’t hold it against you.”

Again, Haru came to a stop, but for a different reason this time. “And this is where we separate. Sorry, but if you turned up to walk me there, it would kind of show up Jack’s lie about you having work.”

“I could say I got off early...”

Impulsively, Haru hugged her lodger. “Thanks for the concern, Baron, but I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

Perhaps he had instincts now too, because he instinctively hugged the brunette back. Mentally, he paused, surprised by his own unorthodox actions.

“Just come back safe, Haru.”

ooOoo

“Ah, there you are Haru! I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to turn up!”

Haru grinned sheepishly as she joined the group standing at the restaurant’s entrance. “Sorry – took a while to convince my mother that everything would be fine.” ‘ _It took a while to convince Baron too, but they don’t need to know that.’_

Elsie smiled back apologetically. “I’m sorry if the abruptness of the planning caught you out – I know we’re practically strangers, but it was either go out tonight, or go to my uncle’s lecture – he’s a professor. At least this way I could say that I was busy.”

Haru waved it away. “It’s fine. Anyway, you said you were bringing your cousin along?”

“Yes – we were introducing everyone before you arrived, but Machida’s just gone inside to check our reservation. He’ll be out in a moment.”

Somehow, for some reason, when Elspeth had originally mentioned a cousin, Haru had imagined a female relative... and certainly not someone that she might know. “Machida?” she hesitantly repeated. “Machida Itsuki?”

“So you know him?”

“Well... Sort of. He’s in my class.” She had once had a crush on him too, but mentioning that would just notch the whole affair several pegs higher on the awkwardness scale. “We haven’t really talked.”

“He said he knew a Haru from school when I first told him about tonight – I thought it was just a funny coincidence. Well, that makes me feel better; I thought I would have to introduce Machida to a whole bunch of strangers.”

“I didn’t realise he was Scottish.”

Now it was Elsie’s turn to wave the comment away. “Very, very faintly. He’s not a first cousin; he’s more distantly related than that. Distant enough for me to say that, for all purposes, he’s Japanese. Anyway, he’s coming back now.”

Just as Elspeth had said, at that point Machida returned from the counter – Haru hadn’t spotted him earlier what with several layers of guests and staff standing between them – and told them that they were at table number four, and helpfully pointed out the aforementioned table to the rest of the group.

To Haru’s embarrassment, when it came to seating arrangements, it was Machida who she ended up sitting beside. She would have been flattered, if she knew it wasn’t just a case of that being the last available seat at the time.

“Oh, Haru says she knows you from school, Machida,” Elspeth said cheerfully. She accepted a menu from the waiter and automatically opened it, however failed to actually read the thing. “It’s funny how coincidences work out, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Haru accepted a menu with a quick smile and murmur of thank you before turning her attention back to the other three. She attempted to make some conversation. “Elsie said your father is a professor – that must be interesting.”

“If you haven’t heard it all before, I guess it is.”

There was a pause as Haru waited for Machida to elaborate. When it seemed he wasn’t going to without prompting, she added, “What is he a professor of?”

“He’s a historian.”

“He does talks around Japan,” Elsie supplied, perhaps also sensing that the conversation was quickly going to dry up. “So he travels a lot. Tonight’s one was only in the next town, so we could have attended it if we wanted to.”

“It get’s rather repetitive, if you ask me.”

The young artist rolled her eyes. “Your father has a degree in the subject; of course he’s going to enjoy talking about it.”

Haru caught Jack’s almost desperate gaze – she would have said desperate, but she had never seen Jack look anything near that emotion until now – and moved to get out of her seat.

“Excuse me, sorry; Jack just looks a little white,” she muttered. Jack always looked pale; there was nothing faintly pathological about it. “I’ll take him outside; perhaps a little bit of fresh air will do him good.” She nodded and, giving Jack a look that told him to follow her lead, headed outside.

Outside, the sky was now a midnight black; small speckles of stars outlined in a misty haze across the heavens. More susceptible to the cold than Jack, Haru couldn’t help but shiver slightly, goosebumps forming along her arms.

“Everything going okay there, Jack?”

“Everything going...? No, no it is _not_ okay!”

Haru nearly smiled at the way Jack began to automatically pace.

“What...? I mean, I... How...?”

He shook his head and seemed to register his rather frenzied walk. He brought it to a stop.

“I can’t do conversation.”

“I realised you struggle with it, but ‘can’t’? That’s a bit defeatist, isn’t it?”

He paused long enough to send an icy glare at Haru. “When I say I can’t, I mean I can’t. Don’t correct me.”

Haru shrugged. “Alright, alright; you ‘can’t’ do conversation. So? What do you intent to do about it?”

“You tell me! You’re human!”

“So are you now!” Haru snapped back.

“Only temporarily!”

The brunette huffed; her breath came out in condensed mist. “And if this works out, it’ll be long-term, so you better get used to it.” She supposed hoping for an apology was over-optimistic, so she moved the topic on. “Look, you’re going to have to talk to Elsie if you want to even gain her as a friend. I’m sorry, but sitting in stony silence isn’t going to cut it.”

Jack considered her words for a few long seconds. “What do people talk about then?”

“Well... stuff...”

From his still-stony glare, she suspected that wasn’t helping.

“You know – current affairs, school or work life... If you get really desperate, you can discuss the weather, but that truly is the smallest of small-talk. You know, just stuff that’s going on in your life.”

“Haru,” Jack started, his voice still at sub-zero temperatures and threatening to drop to new levels, “has it occurred to you that until this winter, I had never had a – human – job; I had never had a childhood; and the only current affairs I could discuss are the ones occupying the Spirit Realm? I have no knowledge in popular culture or in everyday life. Conversation does not come easily.”

“How long have you been a winter sprite?”

“Longer than you could imagine.”

“I see.” It was Haru’s turn to pause; her lips were drawn in a thin line – or perhaps that was the evening cold settling in. “And in that ‘longer than I could imagine’ time, you have never displayed any interest in learning anything about human culture?”

“Watching is rather different to living it.”

“Baron is dealing with the same problems as you, and he’s coping.”

Jack drew in a long-suffering sigh. “I could have guessed the Creation would be brought into this conversation sooner or later.”

“And what does _that_ mean?”

“Nothing I expect you haven’t already worked out,” he retorted.

“Do you want to deal with this on your own?” Haru demanded.

“What do you think?”

“Well, control your temper then!”

“Is that meant to sound tough?”

“It’s meant to convey the fact that I’m sick of your sarky and entirely unhelpful remarks and I–” Haru caught herself. “Sorry. This whole month has just been... rather weird. You know, with you appearing, and then before Baron suddenly becoming...” She shook her head abruptly before that sentence could finish and moved over to the door that would lead back inside. Her hand pressed itself against the window that had become gently frosted with the patterns attributed to Jack Frost. The nerves in her hand protested; she ignored them. “Never mind. What we should be focusing on is the matter of you actually being able to hold a conversation with Elsie, not my personal life. Perhaps you could try to get her to talk about herself. People like having a willing ear; ask her about growing up in Scotland. It sounds like she’s proud of her heritage.” Her hand curled against the glass; the fingers experimentally flexing themselves with a kind of nervous twitch. Haru sighed and finally drew her hand away from the window. “Sorry,” she repeated, this time with a tired resignation. “Come on; we’d better be getting back or Elsie will be getting worried.”

Jack allowed to be led back inside with little protest, perhaps sensing that it was best if he let things go. It was a very surreal feeling to the once-spirit; instinctive social boundaries weren’t something he was familiar with.

They returned back to the table; Elspeth inquired politely as to whether Jack was feeling better know, which was where Haru had to answer as Jack appeared to have forgotten their original alibi.

“Lots of people suffer from claustrophobia,” Elsie offered kindly. “And this restaurant is a little crowded. I wouldn’t be surprised if that set it off.”

“I’m not claustrophobic. I just... prefer being outdoors,” Jack answered robustly. “And I don’t like the feeling of being trapped.”

“I think most people don’t.”

With that, accidently end-all comment, the table lapsed into silence. Haru had decided that she was going to let Jack start a conversation with Elspeth; the only problem being that Jack seemed personally incapable of doing so. Machida didn’t seem that rushed to talk, and Elsie had somehow picked up the undercurrent air of expectancy of Jack to talk. The result was that the silence stretched on for longer than was comfortable.

One glare and not-so-subtle kick from Haru later, and Jack was eventually prompted into action. “So... you come from Scotland?” he eventually commented.

Machida snorted. “I think we’ve covered that.”

Elsie gave a look to her cousin before turning her sympathetic gaze to Jack. “Like I said, I grew up there. It was my childhood home.”

“And did you travel round Scotland, or did you prefer your own little corner?”

“Oh, no, we travelled a lot. Saw more of Scotland than I did of Britain...”

Smiling to herself, Haru gently tuned out as Jack gradually gained the confidence to hold a real conversation. She was relieved, she had to admit. She knew that the once-spirit held a soft spot for Elspeth but still, that didn’t mean this was going to be a success. Still they had a long way to go and such a short time to complete the task. One month. How could they ensure that Elspeth fell for Jack within one month?

‘ _Well, it did only take one day for me to fall for Baron_.’

Haru internally scoffed and made a pretence of examining the grain lines in the wooden surface of the table; one finger idly drew itself along the contour-like strokes.

‘ _Maybe that’s so_ ,’ her mind countered, ‘ _but it took several more visits for that crush to solidify. And the circumstances were a little different. The Cat Kingdom isn’t involved in this, for starters.’_

She smiled to herself, her concentration slipping away from the here and now as she relived a few memories.

“And then, the year after that, my father dragged my sister and I down to Wales, telling us that some varied culture would do us some good. Unfortunately he didn’t exactly agree with the map, and we ended up somewhere in the east of Britain!”

Haru tuned back in to hear Elsie recapping a few memories of her own.

“The east? But Wales is to the west.”

“I know! But my father just kept on pretending that there was nothing wrong and it was only when my sister threatened to walk back to Scotland that he backed down and asked for directions. You should have seen the locals’ faces – there was my father, full in fishing gear, asking where Wales was!” Elspeth was nearly overcome with laughter, earning a few disapproving looks from neighbouring tables. She didn’t seem to care. “Hat with feathered flies, full-length wellies, fishing rod sticking out of one of the car windows...” She laughed again, but this time let it lull into a murmur.

“Your family sounds...”

“Insane? I know.”

Elspeth grinned, and this time looked away. She suddenly got to her feet. “Sorry, I’ve got to... powder my nose. What about you, Haru?”

Haru picked up not so much an offer, but a request. She nodded and stood up too. “Sure.”

ooOoo

“So how exactly do you know him?”

Haru had known the powdering nose reason had been an excuse, and now it seemed she was discovering why. “Jack?”

“Yes.”

The brunette made a non-committal shrug, still leaning against the gleaming, white-tiled wall. “I haven’t actually known him that long,” she admitted. She paused, and then laughed. “Hardly a week, in fact.”

“But you do know him? Sort of.”

“Well, I suppose I know what he’s like. Why do you ask?”

Elspeth gave Haru a withering look. “Miss Haru, I know when a guy harbours an interest in a girl. I can tell that Jack isn’t just looking for simple friendship.”

“Ah.” Haru wasn’t so sure whether she was surprised. Neither was she sure whether this was a positive start. She just had to hope. “I guess it’s not that subtle, huh?”

Elsie laughed. “No, not really. But... it’s sweet, in a way.”

Haru chuckled. “ _Sweet_?” She had never imagined that Jack would ever be classed as ‘sweet’.

“Yes. It’s... I don’t know, but it’s almost like this is his first crush.”

Haru chuckled once again. “You’re closer to the truth than you imagine,” she murmured. She picked her head up. “But you think he’s a nice guy, right?”

“A nice guy, yes... But I don’t know him well enough. That’s why I’m asking you.” Elspeth seemed to think it through for a few moments then, before Haru could add anything, put in, “Although I don’t know why I’m even considering this... I’ll be heading back to Scotland for Christmas anyway so...”

“Don’t think like that. Get to know Jack before you dismiss him.”

“I plan to.”

Haru saw Elspeth bite the edge of her lip; a decisively concentrated expression passing the artist’s sharp features.

“I am not the type of girl to like a guy merely because he is _sweet_ , or because he _smiles nicely_ , or even if he acts like he cares,” Elsie told Haru, this time with an almost stiff tone. There was a pause, a beat, and Elsie seemed to consider her own words. “No,” she murmured, “I’ve learnt that the surface is very different to the interior.”

Haru didn’t reply; she waited for the young artist to come to a conclusion. Another pause, another beat.

Elsie stared at her reflection in the glossy mirror; the gleaming white-tiled walls paled her face and it was a cheap imitation that met her gaze. Tired, Haru was almost tempted to say.

“You’re young, Haru. No, don’t contradict me,” Elspeth added just as Haru was opening her mouth. She smiled fondly at the brunette. “You’re young; don’t make the same mistakes I made. Don’t be afraid to love, but don’t ignore your heart either. Sometimes the two can seem almost contradictory.”

Again, Haru didn’t ask.

Elsie smiled again at Haru, but this time there was something almost knowing there. “If I were you, I’d stick with that young man who seems so attached to you.”

For a few moments, Haru was tempted to feign indifference, but Elspeth cut across that thought.

“Oh, don’t look so stunned,” the young woman laughed. “I’m very good with people; I can tell when one is harbouring a crush. And I’d say his feelings are returned, aren’t they?”

Haru mumbled some incoherent response, but still reddened. “We’re just friends,” she insisted quietly.

“Of course.”

“And he doesn’t feel that way about me,” the brunette added, in a bolder tone this time. “Why would he? That’s just… It just…” she spluttered. “It wouldn’t happen,” she eventually managed.

“Why not?”

“There are… too many boundaries between us.” Never mind the fact that Father Winter had helpfully – or not so helpfully, Haru couldn’t quite decide which – removed the majority of those when he turned Baron human. But those boundaries would be restored at the end of the month.

Elspeth sighed and returned her gaze to the mirror. She dragged one naturally pale hand over her face, intensely contemplating the reflection presented to her. “Of course, perhaps I’m wrong. But I still think he’s a good choice.” She smiled into the mirror; her twin copying her slightly sly grin. “And so do you.”

ooOoo

“So, how did it go?”

Haru jumped and nearly fell off the pavement. It would not have been the first time she tripped over a perfectly smooth surface.

“Gah! Since when did you start turning up out of the blue?” Satisfied that she wasn’t about to fall any time soon, Haru righted herself and attempted to regain some dignity. She peered at her unexpected companion. “Have you been waiting for me?” she asked suspiciously.

The familiar top hat was brought into the light as it was swept from Baron’s head and performed a sweeping bow. “I cannot lie, but, in my defence, it was merely caused by my concern for you. I could not allow a young woman such as yourself to wander the streets alone.”

Haru laughed. “I have walked these streets for longer than you’ve been human.”

“You have not walked these streets for longer than I have been around, though.”

The brunette mused over this undeniable fact. “True, but there are important differences between being a human, and being a Creation.”

“The fact still remains that it would not bode well on my conscious if I left you to walk home alone.” An arm was offered to Haru. “And since I am here now, you cannot deny me the honour of escorting you back.”

Haru looked at the proffered arm. Baron grinned and wiggled his gloved fingers.

“I won’t bite.”

Haru grinned back and rested her hand on the arm. “I would hope not. And I hope you know that you nearly set a heart attack off when you appeared. I’m not used to being addressed while walking down the street. Especially not by a young man.”

“Then I hope you will forgive me.”

Haru grinned again. “Of course I will. I wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge against you for long.”

“That sets my heart at rest.”

“I’m glad it does. And... Baron?” Haru started, suddenly thinking of something.

“Yes?”

“Did you really wait for me all this time?”

Was there a slight reddening of his features, or were Haru’s eyes deceiving her?

“I was worried for your safety,” he admitted quietly. “There are unsavoury characters around at this time of evening.”

Haru squeezed his arm to let him know she appreciated his concern. “Thanks. Even if I still think you’re mad for waiting for me out here.”

“Madness is relative.”


	13. Tuesday 13th December 2011

_Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,_

_Jack Frost nipping on your nose,_

_Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,_

_And folks dressed up like Eskimos._

x

**Tuesday 13 th December 2011: An Open Fire**

“Keep your piggy snout out of the fridge, lard ball!”

“Only if you keep your beak shut, birdbrain!”

“The birdbrain insult again? Seriously, you need some new material!”

The shopping bags were dumped on the kitchen table. “Would you two just stop?” Haru demanded. “If my mother–”

“Relax, Chicky. Your mother is out for the evening. Do you think we’re stupid enough to argue in the house when she’s in?”

“Well, maybe the fatso would be...”

“Oi, get stuffed, ya overgrown chicken!”

“Don’t you recognise a crow when you see one?”

Baron entered the kitchen, carrying another load of groceries. This bag quickly joined its partner. “Play nicely boys.”

“Sorry, Baron.”

Haru had started to go through the bags, assigning the contents to their respective cupboards, but paused at her chore. “That’s not fair. Why do they stop bickering when _you_ ask, but all I get is smart retorts? Yes, Muta,” she added, even with her back turned to the cream cat, “you were making smart retorts, don’t try to deny it.”

She again paused, but this time to peer at the small jars she was picking out. “Hm, we seem to have acquired allspice and cinnamon... oh, and nutmeg...” She lined the glass jars along the side. “Baron, are these the spices you asked for?”

He picked them off the side and placed them back on the table. “Yes. And I also asked for... this... and this...” Honey and treacle quickly joined the spices.

Haru peered over his shoulder. “That looks like an interesting mix. What did you say you would be making again?”

“It’s a German recipe that’s particularly popular during Christmas.” He grinned over at his brunette companion. “Do you want to help?”

“I think my mother would never forgive me if I left the kitchen to the devices of a stranger.”

“A stranger? _Me_?”

Muta grinned from his vantage point on the cooker. “To be fair, Baron, they don’t come much stranger than you. Living wooden doll and all that.”

“Says the living Christmas pudding,” Toto retorted.

“Keep out of this, feather-brains.”

“Ooh, a new insult. How long did it take you to think of that one?”

“Cut it out, guys.” Haru picked up the protesting cat and placed him on the sofa. “And, _really_ , Muta? Would you please stop moulting cat hair all over the place, and, if you must, _don’t_ sit on the cooker.”

“But the cooker is so _warm_.”

“She _is_ right, Muta,” Baron backed up. “It really is most unhygienic.”

“I can’t help it if I moult, can I?” the cat demanded. “What about Toto? He moults feathers.”

“Yes, but _Toto_ isn’t sitting on the cooker,” Haru reminded him.

Muta grumbled something, but didn’t attempt to leave the settee he had been dumped on. “Alright, but I want a decent-sized portion of whatever it is that Baron’s cooking.”

“I thought that was a given, but okay.”

The ingredient pile was slowly growing as Baron picked out more spices and jars. When an interesting assortment had settled on the table, the once-Creation stepped back to admire his work.

Haru joined him, but there was a slight raising of eyebrow on her part. “As impressive as that looks, it doesn’t look that appealing right now.”

“It will do when we have finished,” Baron promised. “Now, is there a saucepan in the immediate area? A medium-sized one would be ideal.”

The saucepan was presented. “What do we need first?”

“If you would pass me the treacle and honey, that would be much appreciated. Thank you.”

“I assume you know how to work the oven, right?”

Baron grinned. “The full English breakfast I provided this morning suggests so. Don’t worry; the kitchen will still be in the same state I found it in by the time we’re done.”

“I would be rather worried if it wasn’t.”Haru leant against the table, continuing to pass the diminutive bottle of lemon juice from hand to hand. “Although, if you do go burning the house down, I’m afraid that you wouldn’t be able to ‘crash on the couch’ anymore. Mainly because we would be lacking a lounge, let alone a couch.”

“I will do my utmost best not to set the building alight then.” Baron had collected the brown sugar and the eggs, but was now rooting through the pile of ingredients, evidently having trouble locating the other items. He paused and looked over at Haru, who still had the lemon juice in hand. He opened his palm beside the brunette. Haru gingerly dropped the bottle into the outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

The juice quickly joined the eggs and sugar.

“What if you get the next section ready?” he offered, not unkindly, but in a way that suggested he thought she would benefit from a role. “Find a large bowl, and stir together the flour, the bicarbonate of soda, and one teaspoon of each of those.” He gestured to the row of spices. “Half a spoonful of the bicarbonate should suffice, and we’ll need about twelve ounces of the flour. Can you remember that?”

 “I _can_ cook,” was Haru’s answer.

“Good. I never said you couldn’t, but knowing that makes this significantly easier.”

Haru half-glared at Baron as she cleaned up the weighing scale’s bowl from the previous usage to weigh the honey and treacle. “I wish I knew whether you were being patronising or not.”

“Would that change anything?” Baron asked curiously.

“No, but perhaps it would even the playing ground.”

“Interesting.”

She had to resist another glare. “What?”

“That you liken our conversation to competition.”

Haru had moved on to drying out the weighing bowl, but paused in her task. “If you must know, Baron, it’s just that sometimes it feels like you’re two steps ahead of the rest of us. And I don’t just mean in baking.”She added after a moment, “And with your long legs, those are pretty long steps.” She set the bowl on the weighing scales and, once the correct weights had been selected, started measuring out the flour.

“Get used to it, kid,” Muta grunted from the sofa. “I would’ve thought you’d realise that he’s a real show-off by now.”

Baron, who was now in the process of pre-heating the oven, didn’t dignify that accusation with a reply. Haru, however, was a little bit more liberal in her response.

“Oh, come on, Muta; he’s not that bad.”

This time, Baron joined in the conversation.

“What do you mean, ‘ _not that bad_ ’?”

Haru shrugged, as she did so she poured the weighed flour into the large plastic bowl. “Well, you must admit, sometimes you can be a little...” She paused as she tactfully searched for the right word. “Well, dramatic, shall we say?”

“Dramatic? I?”

Again, Haru shrugged. “What about the ballroom incident in the Cat Kingdom?”

“I donned a suitable disguise to get close enough to you to aid your escape.”

“And what about taking on those guards with nothing but your cane?”

“I was merely using the resources available to me.”

“But it _was_ dramatic,” Haru said. She pinched her thumb and forefinger together to illustrate a small amount. “Just teeny, weeny bit.” She grinned, and added, “Just a smidgen.”

“Really?”

“Baron, you took on the whole ballroom with nothing but your mask, cane and cloak! Speaking of which,” she added in a slightly mollified tone, “how did that cloak stop the guard’s weapons?”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Now, have you got that mixture ready?”

“Oh, very tactfully moved on the conversation there,” Haru commented. She picked up the bowl and presented the contents to Baron. “Satisfied?”

“Ecstatic. Now we just need to add the treacle and honey, and then stir in the citron and hazelnuts.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“Then we leave it to cool.”

“Alright. For how long?” The instructions were quickly followed through and the nearly-finished product was placed neatly on the side, with strict orders to Muta forbidding any snacking of the uncompleted batch.

“For a decent period. Do you want a cup of tea while we wait?”

Haru considered it, still leaning against the table. “Actually, I could do with some hot chocolate. I’ll make it though.”

“Are you sure? I am certain that I am more than capable of making a decent hot chocolate.”

The brunette had already moved over to the kettle and flicked it on. “My house; you’re the guest; _I’ll_ make the hot chocolate”

“It seems most un-gentlemanly to stand to the side while you act as host.”

The hot chocolate jar had been located (as always, hidden at the back of the cupboard) and three heaped spoonfuls were in the process of being piled into each mug. “If you’re that bothered, Baron, perhaps you could do a favour and get a fire going. I don’t know about you, but it feels like the cold is seeping through the cracks. Oh...” Haru turned around, the jar still in hand. “You’re okay with fire, right? You know, I was just thinking, since in your Creation status, you’re wood so...”

“I am perfectly able of dealing with fire,” Baron reassured.

“Oh. I just thought...”

“I understand your concern and, while proximity of fire is undesirable while in my Creation status, I can handle it quite comfortably when in my flesh state. After all,” he added, “in my line of work, I have been required to deal with varying degrees of danger.”

“Of course you have. Sorry, it was just... just a nagging worry.” Haru felt rather foolish for harbouring the worry in the first place now, and so she set herself to work on the hot chocolate. She jumped however – almost dropping the jar in the process – when she was hugged from behind.

“Thank you for caring, all the same,” he whispered.

Haru froze, fighting against the urge to lean into his embrace and the conscious feeling that she couldn’t let anything happen between them.

Twelve days at the most. Twelve days before this miracle unravelled itself and Baron was, once again, a foot-tall, wooden, half-feline, living figurine. And the days seemed to be going at an ever faster pace now and Christmas was looming over them.

She had hesitated for too long, because Baron abruptly released her with all the symptoms of sudden, deep-setting guilt. “I’m sorry,” he hastily apologised. “I don’t know what led me to do that. I just... It just... It felt like the right thing to do.”

Haru hadn’t turned around; the jar and spoon were still held in her paralysed hands. She noticed that Toto and Muta had dropped their bickering and the room seemed strangely hollow without it.

“You shouldn’t apologise,” Haru told him. She was still to turn around. The last spoonful was poured into the mug and now the jar was placed on the side. It hit the top with a tentative thud that suggested it had been subtly shaking before it made contact. “I care about you a great deal, Baron. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

The kettle whistled and finally came to the boil.

“Perhaps you should get that fire going,” she suggested quietly.

“Yes. The fire.”

Haru still hesitated as she located the milk, pouring half an inch into the two mugs and set to work stirring the powder into a thick liquid. When the boiled water had been added, she picked the two hot chocolates up and set one quietly down on the coffee table.

“I assumed you wanted some too.”

Baron looked up from where he had been setting the fireplace. His eyes instinctively travelled to Haru’s face, and then trailed down to the proffered drink. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stood to the side, awkwardly unsure what to do, until Baron had started the fire going and he claimed the hot beverage before settling himself against the coffee table, sitting comfortably on the carpet.

Hot chocolate still grasped in her hands, Haru hesitantly sat beside him, her back leaning against the table too. He moved to the side to give Haru a little bit more of the coffee table to lean against.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised again.

“You shouldn’t be–”

“It was a most impolite action to embrace a lady like that,” Baron cut across. He spoke quickly, like it was easier to deal with the guilt if he got it all out before Haru could interrupt. “It was very disrespectful of me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Haru didn’t pick her eyes up from the ground, preferring to examine the seemingly random pattern of the carpet. One hand curled around the cup, her other dug itself into the nearly threadbare strands of the carpet; the movement implying some discomfort. “It wasn’t disrespectful,” she told him.

“It startled you.”

Her hand splayed itself against the floor, leaving a hand imprint dented into the carpet. “So did you yesterday when you suddenly appeared. That wasn’t disrespectful. A little... unexpected, yes. But not disrespectful.”

“You didn’t want me to embrace you,” Baron put in.

“Who said I didn’t?”

“Your actions spoke louder than any words you might have uttered.”

Haru put her hot chocolate down. “Baron, I...” She hesitated and momentarily dropped her line of thought. She took his hand in hers, noting the somewhat warm, sooty state it was in after dealing with the fire, and tightened her grip to a mildly possessive and rather emotional hold. “You weren’t wrong in what you did. I just... wasn’t expecting it.” She examined their joined hands, and now loosened her grip to a more gentle hold. “So stop apologising already and cheer up. I hate it when you’re like this.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it again, deciding against repeating himself. The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

Haru smiled back at her lodger. “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She picked up her drink again and leant partially against Baron. He froze, like Haru had done previously, and then seemed to relax.

“I suppose it was not.”

The brunette at his immediate side yawned. “Good. You’re very important to me, Baron,” she told him tiredly. She yawned again and let her head balance itself on his shoulder. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“And I feel the same way about you, Haru,” Baron replied softly.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’re getting kind of hungry over here!”

Muta’s rude awakening call made the couple jolt; Haru almost spilt her hot chocolate over herself. The pair moved away from each other in a nearly guilty action.

“Right. Sorry, Muta.” Baron quickly got to his feet, automatically offering Haru a hand up. But, even through the nagging guilt, he couldn’t help a seed of annoyance settling itself inside him. The batch could have waited a few minutes longer. “Yes, the mixture should have cooled by now. Haru, do you know how to make icing?”

“With caster sugar and water and icing sugar, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.”

“Good. You sort out that and I will concentrate on the mixture.”

“Fine.”

Haru set about returning the milk to the fridge, but paused when she saw a note pinned to the fridge door by a garish yellow star. She set the milk on the inside ledge of the door and slipped the note off, letting the door swing shut behind her. The words were written in her mother’s flowing calligraphy.

_Haru –_

_Is Baron a tenor?_

_Thursday, 15 th December; 6.00PM, carol singing._

_Bring friends along. We could really do with some extra voices!_

_Love, Mum._

“What is that you have there?”

Haru pinned the note back on the fridge, this time smiling. “Oh, Mum’s just trying to draw some new recruits for the carol singing. Are you interested?”

“Sounds like it might be fun. Why not?”

“Why not indeed. Good; I’ll try and get Hiromi to tag along too. She normally comes.” Haru returned herself to the task of making icing. “By the way, you never did tell me what we’re actually making.”

“It’s called lebkuchen.”

Haru repeated the name, rolling the unfamiliar word round her mouth. She grinned. “Is it nice?”

“Is it nice?” Baron repeated incredulously. “Is it nice, you ask? Miss Haru, do you think I would bake something for you if I did not think that it was ‘nice’?”

“Ah. Good point.”

“Yes, good point indeed. And I see a distinct lack of icing being produced over there.”

Haru had paused in her task. Now she placed hands on hips, doing a perfected impression of her mother. “You have the audacity to question _me_ , Baron Humbert von Gikkingen? _I_?” She had to heavily resist the urge to laugh. “I, who agreed to let you stay here, who let you eat off our table and who allowed you to cook in my kitchen?”

“Technically it’s your mother’s kitchen.”

“It’s more my kitchen than it is yours.”

Baron found a significant lack of supporting argument on his side there. “I am the older, responsible adult here,” he finally replied. “Compared to me, you are just a moody, spotty teenager.”

“And you’re ancient. At your age you should be taking up Bridge or fishing or something.”

“If I remember correctly, it was _I_ who rescued _you_ from the Cat Kingdom.”

“Pedantic details.”

“Rather major and important details, if I may say so myself.”

“Don’t worry. You’re old; a decaying perception of reality is quite normal for one your age.”

They stared each other down for a few seconds longer before Haru finally cracked and began to insanely giggle. “Sorry, but ‘moody, spotty teenager’? I’ll have you know I’m an adult.”

“Eighteen is still part of the teen years.” He started to chuckle too now. “And what about ‘decaying perception of reality’? I’m sorry; I didn’t realise that was part of the ‘senior-moment’ package.”

Haru’s giggles were finally brought under control and soon the only tell-tale sign were the deep, heavy breaths Haru was still taking. She wiped away a few tears and smiled fondly at her lodger. “I’m sure this lubkucken...”

“Lebkuchen,” Baron automatically corrected.

“Pedantic,” Haru retorted.

“Moody,” was Baron’s grinning reply.

“You can’t comment. You were never a teenager.”

“From the look of things, I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Anyway,” she continued with a loud and slightly domineering sigh, “as I was saying, I’m sure this lebkuchen–” Haru was very careful to get it right this time “–will be very good. And if it’s not, Muta can have it,” she quickly added.

“Hey! I’m a cat; _not_ your personalised bin!”

“I doubt they can tell the difference.”

“Shut it, beaky!”

“Ooh, aren’t we moody today? Do you think cats also go through their teen years?”

“If you make _one more_ comment...”

Haru smiled to herself as the two animals returned to their usual routine. The fact that they had suggested there was a comforting feeling of normality that had been restored, quite unlike the alien tension that had flooded the room earlier. She snuck a look at Baron, who had also paused in his task to watch the bickering duo.

She found herself moving towards her lodger and – hesitantly at first – hugged him. He returned the embrace so suddenly that it felt nearly instinctive.

“You were wrong,” she whispered. “About me not wanting to be hugged. Don’t make the same mistake again.”

Twelve days were better than nothing.


	14. Wednesday 14th December 2011

_Step into Christmas_

_Let’s join together;_

_We can watch the snow fall for ever and ever._

_Eat, drink and be merry,_

_Come along with me._

_Step into Christmas,_

_The admission’s free._

_x_

**Wednesday 14 th December 2011: Eat, Drink and Be Merry**

Sometimes Haru had to question why she ever agreed to Hiromi’s ideas. She came to the conclusion – as always – that it was an inescapable part of the ‘best friend’ territory.

Which was why she was at the Crossroads on a Wednesday afternoon, early evening, developing goosebumps while Hiromi perused the various stalls.

Wednesdays were market day. This was the fact that Hiromi had sprung on Haru that morning, and it was the fact that had decided they were going to go into town after school and inspect the market which, due to the season, was mainly a mixed-culture Christmas market.

“If it’s any comfort, you look as cold as I feel, “Baron commented from her side. They had walked down to the toyshop before heading off to the Crossroads and had caught Baron on his way out.

“Not really, because you look pretty cold yourself.”

“Well, the two of you have no appreciation for winter,” Jack remarked.

Haru was also beginning to question why she had invited Jack and Elspeth to join them. She supposed, at the time, it had seemed like a good excuse to get Jack and Elsie in the same area without exclusively making it the pair of them alone.

“I’m only human.”

“I know. You have my most sincere sympathy.”

Elsie laughed. “Why, Jack, you speak as if you come from another world.”

“You do not know the half of it.” Leaning closer to Elspeth, he clasped his hands together and blew through them, like someone attempting to warm their freezing hands. However, instead of the misted breath that should have appeared at the tips of his fingers, a flurry of sparkling snowflakes flew out, engulfed in their own miniature snowstorm.

Elsie laughed and caught one in her open palm. She brought it for a closer inspection and duly proceeded to tell the rest of the group that it indeed felt and looked like a real snowflake.

“Huh, I see Jack still has his magic,” Haru murmured to Baron.

“It appears so.”

“Why don’t you have yours?”

The two of them were lagging a few steps behind the other three; close enough to hear the avid discussion concerning Jack’s newfound ‘conjuror ability’ but far enough that if they lowered their voices the trio before them wouldn’t accidently overhear. Baron leaned towards Haru and replied in a quiet, but casual tone, “Spirit-magic may be different to Creation.”

“Still, it’d be useful if you had your magic.”

“It would. Unfortunately that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Haru watched Jack converse significantly more successfully than he had been managing with any human being over the last few days. “Have you been helping him with his socialising skills recently?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Haru shrugged. “Well, he’s either had an epiphany or he’s been visited by the fairy godmother of social skills. I went for the latter.”

“When did I suddenly become a fairy godmother of social skills?”

“Okay, it can be fairy godfather, if that makes you feel any better about the whole thing. Anyway, you’ve done a good job. Jack could almost be passed as human.”

“Almost?”

Haru shrugged again. “Well, there is the rather minor difference of him being able to conjure snow out of nowhere...”

“Perhaps he’ll lose the ability when – _if_ – he becomes permanently human.”

“Perhaps,” Haru echoed. “I hope he does; he’s gone through a lot to win Elspeth. You can’t help thinking that he deserves his happy ending.” She watched the trio before them; saw Jack make Elspeth laugh again, but this time at some passing comment. Haru smiled to herself. “They look like a good match though, don’t they? Jack Frost with a young ice-sculpture artist. It makes a sort of poetic reasoning.”

“Perhaps Jack will start to fall for her for real.”

Haru turned to Baron. “That’s an odd comment to make. I thought Jack already liked her...”

“Oh, he thinks he does. But how can you fall in love with someone you’ve never spoken to?” Baron queried.

Haru didn’t answer.

Now Baron smiled too. “He liked the fact that she was young and pretty, the fact that she could make ice into beautiful sculptures; perhaps, with conversation, he will begin to fall in love with her spirit too.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“But you understand?”

“Yes, I understand perfectly. I understand exactly what you mean,” she added in a subtly subdued voice.

Baron tilted his head as he looked at the brunette to his side. “Is everything okay, Haru?”

The girl in question laughed a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I was just reminiscing.”

“I hope I am not prying, but what was the memory at scrutiny? It appears to absorb a significant portion of your attention.”

“Oh... it was just...” Haru reddened, but carried on. “Well, there used to be a boy I liked.” She decided against mentioning it was Machida, Elspeth’s cousin. “He’s in my year and he is charming and handsome and...”

“And?”

“And completely oblivious to my existence,” Haru sighed, “apart from the occasional freak meeting and my more frequently late arrival into class.” She reddened a little more. “And, you know, I _liked_ him.”

“Liked him?”

“Yes. As in, well, having a crush on him.”

“Yes, I know what ‘liking’ someone means.”

“Anyway, looking back it seems rather stupid, because I had never even talked to him – not properly, anyway. Your comment about being unable to love someone you’ve never spoken to made me think of that. That was all.”

“And do you still... harbour feelings for this boy?”

Haru laughed. “Oh my... No. _No_ , not at all. I got over him a while back.”

Baron suddenly paused, much to Haru’s surprise.

“Baron, is something wrong?”

“No, but I just realised that I don’t know whether you have a boyfriend. Would he be comfortable with knowing that I am lodging at your home?”

“I’m sure _he_ would be fine, since _he_ doesn’t exist,” was Haru’s rather blunt reply. “Anyway, I think I would have introduced you to him by now, or at least Hiromi would have dragged him into the conversation with an overdramatic stage whisper or something of the like. I would have mentioned a boyfriend by now, Baron.”

“Sorry. It just seemed wholly inappropriate for my lodging at your house if there was a boyfriend in the picture.”

“Why? It’s not as if anything’s going on between us.”

“No, but it would be the _principle_ of the thing.”

Haru laughed again. “Don’t worry, Baron; you’re not treading on anyone’s territory.”

“I’m glad.”

The trio before them had been dragged into a conversation with a trader on one of the many Christmas stalls; this stand boasting a wide display of distinctly foreign seasonal sweets. Baron and Haru paused beside them and instantly received a free sample. When they finally managed to move away, all trying different variations of the sweets, it occurred to them that they never actually bought anything.

“How did we manage that?” wondered Haru aloud.

“I think it was the ‘free sample’ part that did it,” Hiromi replied.

“Perhaps we should pay the man,” murmured Elsie worriedly. “Even if they were free samples, it seems awfully unfair that we should have received so much for nothing.”

“I’ll go,” offered Jack.

Haru almost felt like applauding Baron’s effort to turn Jack into a sociable human being.

It was quickly agreed that Jack should go back and, once everyone had given a little bit of their money, sent the ex-spirit back to the trader. A few minutes later – or perhaps a little longer, since Jack seemed to be there for quite a while – saw him return with two not-so-small bags of sweets.

“You were meant to pay for the sweets we took, not buy the entire stall!” Hiromi cried.

“How did you end up with all that stuff?”

Jack, on the whole, look rather confused. “I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “I just went back to give the money, but he wouldn’t take it until I had tried a few more sweets, and then he would only take it if I bought a bag or two. I don’t know how I ended up with this much though.”

“Let’s just hope we’ve all got a sweet tooth today,” laughed Haru. “It should last us for the next few hours, at the very least.”

“How many sweets do you plan on eating, Haru?”

“I suppose it depends on how hungry I get!” Haru replied to Hiromi, laughing. They paused by another stall, this one laden down with a mixture of carvings and other assorted wood-based items. Beside it rested an unfamiliar statue of an inaccurate version of Father Winter. At least, since it lacked a furred hat and the stereotypical bag of presents, Haru assumed it was Father Winter and not a variant of Father Christmas.

“Hey, we’ve found your friend again,” Haru said to Baron. She picked up a wooden nutcracker from the side and showed it to her lodger. “Look familiar?”

He chuckled. “Indeed.”

To the side, Jack could be heard to complain about the ‘wholly inaccurate’ statue of Father Winter.

Baron, however, became interested in a collection of hand-crafted canes resting in a metallic (which seemed out-of-place in the wood shop) holder. He fingered the decorative ends, some merely with a decorative pattern and others more elaborately with the heads of animals carved into the handle.

“Thinking about replacing your cane?” Haru offered.

“I doubt it. My current one is more than adequate.”

“You’re only saying that out of courtesy.” His current cane was from her, as a gift for helping her escape the Cat Kingdom. After his comment in the kingdom regarding getting a new cane, she had decided a new one would hopefully show some of her appreciation for his assistance.

“These ones are too extravagant for my tastes,” he remarked. “They would be impractical for day-to-day usage.”

“And by that, you mean using as a weapon?”

He looked her way. “There are many uses for a cane that crop up during Bureau business. But, yes, it is a useful alternative weapon when the occasion calls.”

“Really?”

To their side, there was a shout as the statue revealed itself to be a person painted grey and only disguised as a statue. Jack, who was entirely unprepared and – for all Baron’s assistance – still a little jumpy with the human world, leapt back and, with a slightly unusual, winter-based curse, sent a blast of frosty air at the unexpected entertainer. The person would have stumbled back, but following Jack’s outburst, his feet were unexplainably – at least to most people – frozen to the stone platform.

Baron, who had been just as startled, but by Jack’s response rather than the false statue itself, had swept one of the wooden canes out of the holder and was gripping it like a weapon between him and the commotion to their side.

Haru raised her eyebrows at the raised cane.

“Did the occasion call then?” she asked sweetly.

Baron gingerly returned the cane to its proper place. “I was not expecting that,” he replied in his defence.

“This I can see.”

“Could you two come and help?”

That was Hiromi who was trying to help Elspeth calm the panicking entertainer – who, Haru thought personally, was quite just in being rather freaked by the abrupt freezing of his feet. Jack was standing to the side; any movement made by him towards the poor man seemed to only scare the petrified man further.

“Can’t you undo that?” Haru asked Jack as she passed him by.

“No.”

“What?”

“I can freeze it, I can’t melt it,” Jack answered irately. It appeared his behaviour had surprised him back into his previous frostiness. “If you want someone who can do that, find a spring spirit.”

“Well that’s great,” Haru cried. “Just great. How useless is that?”

Baron appeared at her side. “Haru, the others have suggested that we should find something that should melt the ice,” he said calmly. “There will surely be something in this market that will help. Some type of warm drink, perhaps?”

After a short period of searching, and a slightly longer period of bartering, the two arrived back to the still-frozen man, with a rather generous glass of mulled wine.

“You can’t pour mulled wine over his feet!” exclaimed Hiromi.

“Why not? It’s warm, isn’t it? And we thought tea or coffee would be too hot.”

“You’ll ruin his boots! Can’t you find something else?”

“Well you try and find something then.”

“Mulled wine is fine,” the entertainer hastily interceded. “Please, just release me before my toes become permanently stuck to the stone.”

They complied and very quickly the man was waving off their apologies, not entirely sure how or why it could be their fault, but didn’t stick around to find out.

Hiromi looked over at the glass still in Baron’s hand.

“Anyone up for mulled wine?”


	15. Thursday 15th December 2011

_The holly and the ivy,_

_When they are both full grown_

_Of all the trees that are in the wood_

_The holly bears the crown_

_O the rising of the sun_

_And the running of the deer_

_The playing of the merry organ_

_Sweet singing of the choir_

_x_

**Thursday 15 th December 2011: Sweet Singing**

“When you said this thing started at six, I think I had forgotten how dark it really is at this time of evening.”

Haru passed across to Hiromi the lantern with its electric flame flickering in the dulled light bulb. “It’s this dark every year we do carol singing.”

“I know, but... Well, you know.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Haru passed another of the electric lanterns to Elspeth, and then to Jack. Jack took it with a slight air of distain. “Electric lights?” he commented dryly.

“Yeah. Health and safety would have a fit if we actually had real lanterns.”

Naoko appeared at Haru’s side, carrying a few more of the lamps in question to pass around the growing group. “The risk assessment was bad enough just with the electric lanterns. I don’t even want to _consider_ the pile of paperwork that would have been needed if fire was involved.”

Baron accepted the lantern. “Will we be singing the traditional hymns, or will there also be the occasional modern song?” he asked, moving the conversation on to a different topic.

The redhead shrugged and passed another lamp to a young family that had joined. “It depends on what people feel like, I suppose. Will that be okay?”

“That will certainly be fine.”

Naoko moved away to distribute more of the miniature lanterns, leaving the group to discuss the evening ahead.

“Hey, Haru,” Hiromi commented, nudging her friend. “It looks like Mrs Mao wants your attention.”

The brunette in question sighed. “It’ll be to help give out the carol booklets. I’ll meet up with you guys when I’ve finished.” She disappeared into the crowd of two dozen, just like her mother had done less than thirty seconds ago.

“Is it me,” Elspeth started calmly, “or does this whole affair feel rather disorganised?” She stood on the pavement beside the town hall, gently glowing lantern in hand as she observed the gathered group congregating around them. Several of the individuals were carrying various instruments; some more unusual than others.

Hiromi laughed. “It’s a community event,” she said. “Disorganisation is an obligatory attribute. About _the_ only thing that is organised is where we’ll be stopping for mince pies.”

“We stop for refreshments?” Baron asked.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No. I was only aware that the event needed more singers.”

Hiromi laughed again. “Well, technically the mince pies come when we’ve finished as a sort of treat – or a sort of bribery to make sure people stay ‘til the very end. You choose.” The lighter brunette glanced to where Haru had been dragged into a conversation by two elderly women – by the motions the other two were going through, it seemed to be something along the lines of ‘how much she had changed,’ or some similar topic. It didn’t look like Haru would be finishing her task of handing out the song booklets any time soon.

Noting this, Hiromi took Baron’s hand – which was covered in a thick woollen glove, well designed to keep maximum warmth – and led him away from Jack and Elspeth. For a moment, Baron considered objecting, since he was meant to be keeping an eye on Jack. However, the rudeness of the action prevented him from following it through, and so he allowed himself to be led a few metres away from the group. He looked down at the young brunette, surprise mingling with curiosity.

“Miss Hiromi, I assume there is a reason for your actions?” The sentence was mildly placed as a question, with just enough tone submitted to give his enquiry a little more authority than would otherwise have been present.

“Yes, there is,” Hiromi replied curtly. “And I won’t beat around the bush – not that I have ever been particularly good with that kind of thing – so I’ll get straight to the point.” Her hands moved to her hips in an automatic disdainful posture. Still, Baron couldn’t help thinking about the day before, when Haru had done exactly the same movement, but in an entirely different setting. “Do you, or do you not, like Haru?”

In sureness that he could handle whatever Hiromi needed to get off her chest, Baron had already started to open his mouth. On hearing her exact words, however, his mouth froze for several seconds before finally snapping shut. He could almost hear the various parts of his mind going on strike.

Hiromi was not amused by his antics. Her hands tapped irritably against her hips.

“ _Well_? I’m waiting, Mr Gikkingen.”

Somewhere, in the far flung back of his mind, which was still – miraculously – in working order, he noted the formal address. That notification was passed to another functioning part of his mind to process the fact that he almost definitely in trouble. Finally, some nearly incoherent order reached his mouth, and a nearly incoherent reply made it past his lips.

“Well... I ... The truth is...”

“Because, if you like her, I’ll go on encouraging her about you...” Hiromi stated.

Baron took a few more seconds to process this statement – a statement that irrefutably implied that, firstly, Hiromi was encouraging Haru about him and, secondly (and certainly more to the point) that Haru already had some feelings for him for Hiromi to encourage – to the point that he almost missed the rest of Hiromi’s sentence.

“...But if–” And at this point, Hiromi cast an accusing finger in Baron’s direction; close enough for him to note it was almost blue with cold, “–you do not, then I suggest you stop leading her on.”

“Leading her on....? I am not... I am _not_ leading her on,” Baron spluttered with indignation.

“Then tell her how you feel about her.”

“But I...”

He stopped when Hiromi gave him an icy glare to rival Jack Frost’s. He dropped his head shamefully.

“It isn’t as simple as that.”

“So you _do_ like her!”

“Yes,” Baron sighed. “Yes, I do.”

“So there’s no problem,” enthused Hiromi. Her hands had dropped from her hips and she had become an excitable teenager once again. “You like her; she likes you. Where’s the problem?” she cried, throwing out her hands.

Baron glanced to where Haru was passing out booklets; still absorbed with her task, but perhaps not for much longer. “Please, not so loud.”

“What? You’re afraid she’ll overhear? Doesn’t she deserve to know the truth?” Hiromi accused.

“Not if it’ll only make the situation more awkward than it already is,” Baron muttered.

“More awkward? Baron, your relationship with Haru seems the most natural thing ever!”

“Does it?” he said quietly. “You’d be surprised.”

“Well, I can see that you like each other; I fail to see what could possibly be what’s stopping you.”

“I am only... _staying_ here for a short period,” Baron explained, subtly choosing his words with care.

“So what? You can stay pen-pals. You can visit again!”

“I’m afraid that this visit is a one-off.”

Hiromi gave him an incredulous stare.”Surely you can visit again,” she repeated.

He shook his head.

“What’s stopping you? I don’t get it; I’ve never met two people who are obviously made for each other and are yet so darn _stubborn_ about it!”

“Nevertheless,” Baron said smoothly, if a little uncomfortably, “I will have to... _leave_ at the end of the month. Haru and I are unlikely to meet in the same situation again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it looks like we’re about to set off.” He nodded his head respectfully, but with a slight trace of guilt that led Hiromi to believe that it was partially an excuse to end the conversation.

She shook her head disbelievingly. “I just don’t get it,” she repeated quietly.

ooOoo

“Quite a striking fellow.”

“Indeed. Quite a catch.”

Haru reddened and tried to end the ongoing conversation with the two elderly Yui sisters. The task of handing out booklets had taken slightly longer than she had been expecting; then again, she hadn’t been expecting the two women to keep her in conversation for so long.

“We were discussing it before you came round, in fact,” the taller sister commented. “I was saying – wasn’t I saying, Kazuko? – how perfect a couple the pair of you make.”

“Indeed, Kumiko,” the smaller one agreed. She nodded enthusiastically; in her old age – which had never appeared to slow either of the sisters down – her head seemed close to falling off at the action. “And I was saying, I was saying indeed, ‘How unusual it is to see Haru with a boy,’ – have you had a boyfriend yet, dear?”

Haru reddened further. “No, and it is highly unlikely that Baron–”

Kumiko chuckled and duly interrupted. “Trust the Yui sisters, Haru; we may be old, but we’ve had our fair share of courtiers. That young man–” She pointed to Baron, who had been dragged away by Hiromi and was rather stuck in conversation, for emphasis, “–is rather fond of you.”

“Yes, _fond_ ,” Haru said. “Who said it was anything more?”

Kazuko sighed in a deep, buffalo sigh. “And I thought it was us who were meant to be losing our sight. What Kumiko is trying to convey – and is apparently failing – is that that boy feels a great deal more for you than simply fondness.”

Haru laughed uneasily. “I don’t think...”

“Fine. Fine. Ignore the two elderly Yui sisters who have had far more life experience than your young teenage life has ever had. You can lie to your mind, but you can’t lie to your heart. You know we’re telling the truth, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

The young brunette opened her mouth to protest, and then suddenly thought of the rather awkward situation yesterday. She closed it and looked somewhat uncomfortable as her mind searched for a logical reason that didn’t yield to the Yui sisters’ conclusion.

Taking her silence as defeat, the two sisters grinned in sync. “See, you can’t even deny it. Oh, and don’t look now, but I think he’s coming this way.”

Kumiko leant forward in the mime of a stage whisper. “Personally I’d go for this boy. He’s a great deal more mature than other boys his age.”

“And very much the gentleman,” Kazuko added in the same stage whisper.

Haru chuckled dryly. “Thank you for your advice, but I very much doubt that I will be needing it any time soon.” She stepped away and found herself stepping into someone.

“It looks like we’re about to start the carol singing,” Baron commented from behind. “Have you finished handing out the song booklets?”

Haru turned on her heel, a grin slipping automatically at his presence. “No, but I think I’ve only got you and Elspeth and the rest.” She turned and waved back to the sisters. “I’ll catch up with you later, Kumiko and Kazuko!”

The elderly women waved back, smiling knowingly at Haru’s sudden cheerfulness.

“How long do you think it’ll be before they admit it?” Kumiko asked in an amused whisper.

“At that rate, it’ll certainly be before Christmas.”

“You want to bet on that?”

Kazuko gave a grin that seemed to discard the long years. “Fine. If they get together before Christmas, you’re doing the washing up until Epiphany.”

“Deal.”

Kazuko grinned once again; this time the action made her look closer to a naughty schoolgirl. “With the magic of Christmas, it’s like taking candy from a baby.”

ooOoo

“Thanks for that.” Haru sighed in relief, quickly recovering from her embarrassment endured under the Yui sisters.

“You looked like you needed some saving,” Baron replied, smiling.

“Thanks. They don’t mean any harm, but when they get an idea into their head, they don’t let it go easily.”

“And what would be the idea in their head then?”

Haru blushed, but waved it away. “Oh, nothing. Just a little miscommunication regarding...”

“Yes?” Baron prompted.

“Nothing,” she repeated hastily. “It was nothing.”

They arrived at their small group, where Hiromi and Elspeth were being duly entertained by some story that Jack was telling them, and so the opportunity for Baron to persist with the topic was lost.

Haru smiled internally to herself as she listened to Jack recall a few snow antics he’d seen in his time. Evidently it was some event that he had witness as a spirit, but he still had the two girls’ rapt attention.

Strange to think that only ten or so days ago he had been unable to hold a comfortable conversation.

Still smiling, Haru handed out the song booklets – not quite enough for everyone, so Jack ended up sharing with Elspeth, and Haru with Baron – and did well not to interrupt Jack’s newfound storytelling talent.

ooOoo

The disorganisation noted by Elspeth didn’t dispel as the carol singing group set off along the street. Bustling along on the inconveniently too-small pavement, they were forced to go in twos or threes, with the leader – a long-standing matriarch in the community – shouting out the next song, with the occasional heated – but short-lasting – debate from the unofficial conductor over what the hastily gathered band could play. This was also accompanied with the recurring belt of, “Mr Takeshi, keep your rabble in time!” from the matriarch or the less frequent – but no less loud – demand of, “Ms Ran, kindly keep your singers in tune!” from the conductor.

“Do those two always argue this much?” Baron asked Haru quietly in a gap between two songs. The gap was unplanned, but had hastily occurred as the two loud individuals at the front debated what key would be best fitting for the next song.

Haru laughed. “Oh, always whenever the two have to work together. But it’s all in good-humour. Think of it a bit like Toto and Muta’s arguments.”

“With that comparison at hand, I am beginning to wonder whether battle armour would have been a better choice of clothing.”

The brunette laughed again. “Don’t worry; keep your head down and you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll keep that advice in mind.” Baron listened to the animated conversation at the front. If it could be called a conversation; it seemed a definition too mild. “I wasn’t aware that the key of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ was that important.”

“It is when you have Mr Takeshi and Ms Ran in the same room. Same street, whatever.”

“Right. And I thought that carol singing was meant to promote goodwill on earth to all men.” Baron watched the frazzled conductor shout a rather unusual curse upon the matriarch’s singers. In retaliation, Ms Ran threw back an equally unorthodox curse concerning Father Christmas filling their various instruments with coal and sticks and socks, and other similar presents.

“It keeps the locals entertained,” Haru answered with a chuckle. She peered round the crowd before her to get a better view of the arguing couple. “Oh, and they should be coming to an agreement soon...”

“How can you–”

He was cut across with the resounding bellow of, “Fine!” from the matriarch and a likewise retort of, “Fine!” from the conductor.

“Good!”

“Good!”

Ms Ran turned to her singers with a rather dynamic glint in her eyes. “We will now sing, ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, in whatever key you see fit!”

This earned a glare from Mr Takeshi, but he didn’t try to contradict her.

Haru grinned at the astounded Baron. “When you’ve lived in this community as long as I have done, you learn to read their arguments pretty accurately.”

“You keep on amazing me, Miss Haru.”

Haru laughed and elbowed her lodger. “Stop calling me that.”

He laughed alongside her, glad just to have made her laugh.

ooOoo

 “We’re going to need a couple to sing this song!”

This announcement was met with a mixed response; some people groaned, others looked vaguely excited by the prospect. The band didn’t look quite prepared for it either. Various looks were exchanged in the unorganised group.

“We always sing that song as a group!” someone called out.

“Yeah! Why are we doing something different this year?” someone else backed up.

“We thought this year a little bit of change would be good,” Ms Ran told the group.

Haru didn’t look that convinced either. “Ms Ran has never been one for change,” she told Baron. “She nearly retired herself from leading the carol singing last year because someone tried to replace Mr Takeshi.” She peered around the group to get a better view of the woman, and spotted the familiar forms of the Yui sisters heading back into the crowd. Haru groaned. ‘ _And I bet those two had something to do with Ms Ran’s sudden change in philosophy_.’

“No, no, NO; everyone shut up and get back into order!” Ms Ran demanded.

The crowd immediately settled down. The majority of the community had known Ms Ran to know when to back down and when to carry on with the argument – which, was never; since Ms Ran had never lost a debate with anyone in living memory. Mr Takeshi was the only one exempt from that rule.

“Thank _you_! Now, we need a couple; preferably a young one...”

Haru saw Ms Ran’s eagle eyes not-so-idly spot her and Baron in the crowd. She resisted a groan. “Baron, are you in good singing voice today?”

“I believe so. Why?”

“Because I’m afraid we’re about to get volunteered.”

Sure enough...

“Haru, why don’t you come up? And bring that young man with you too.”

“Do you think we can talk our way out of this?” Baron offered, perhaps seeing the reluctance written plain across Haru’s face.

“With Ms Ran? Please; you’d sooner win an argument with a brick wall,” Haru murmured back with tired resignation. “The only way you can ever win against Ms Ran is if she deigns to let you.”

“Chop, chop, Haru!” the matriarch called jollily.

Haru glanced around. The location of their decided duet was apparently going to be the Crossroads. Haru repressed another groan and considered – for a split second – what the chances of persuading Ms Ran to let them sing their duet in a less conspicuous place. The split second and the glimpse of Ms Ran’s set expression told her enough for her to know it would be useless.

“Do you both know ‘Every Time it Snows’?”

“Well...”

“Good.” A pair of microphones – primitive in their technology, but good enough so that wires were not needed to trail after them – were passed (or, rather, unceremoniously shoved) into Haru and Baron’s hands. “Tell us when you’re ready to start and Mr Takeshi will have the band ready. Won’t you, Mr Takeshi?” she added; her tone telling everyone that there was absolutely no question in the matter.

Haru shuffled over to Baron; the pair of them were distinctly separate from the rest of the carol singers now as Ms Ran had shoved them forward and ushered the rest of the group back.

“Do you actually know this song?” Haru whispered. She could see the group – and now several passersby – watching them expectantly.

Baron flicked through the lyrics. “Well enough.”

“What about the Spanish lyrics near the end?”

“I know a little bit,” he confessed. “I found that I was pretty gifted in languages.”

“Is that you modestly saying that you’re fluent in it?”

He hesitated, and then nodded a little apologetically. “Do you know this song?”

“We sing it every year, so I know it pretty well.”

“Well enough to do a solo?”

Haru made a face at that. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

“Haru, any time soon would be just brilliant!” Ms Ran called.

Baron passed his microphone to the same hand as the booklet, in order to gently take Haru’s hand. “You’ll do fantastically,” he reassured. “Do you want me to tell them you’re ready?”

Mutely, Haru nodded.

He momentarily turned around to nod to the waiting band. A tentative violin – since there was no piano available, and the violin was the closest they had to it (the majority being brass band instruments) – started to play the first few chords.

“You’ll do fantastically,” he repeated.

She nodded with the same stiff motion.

The violin continued, but it stumbled when Haru failed to come in. The elderly gentleman, who was the group’s only violinist, tried the same chords, attempting to point out Haru’s entrance by stressing the notes.

‘ _This isn’t going to work._ ’

Baron looked back, and caught the eye of the poor violinist. He touched Haru’s shoulder encouragingly before heading back. He paused by the elderly gentleman and, after a very quick exchange of words, was given the instrument and a shaft of music sheets. The microphone was passed back to Ms Ran, who – for once – wordlessly accepted it. He returned to Haru’s side, smiling more encouragement.

“I thought you had given up on me,” Haru whispered.

“Never,” he promised. Haru took the music sheets to hold, still looking as if she could not quite believe his patience. The violin softly started; the same chords as before gently breaking into the lull of bustling life around them. “Just watch me,” he said quietly. He kept the beat with a slight nod of his head, giving Haru another nod when it was her turn to start.

Her start was trembling, but at least it was a start.

“ _Spiralling and trembling_

_The snowflakes tumble down_

_Fluttering like angel wings_

_Like diamonds on the ground_.”

Haru caught Baron’s eye; he grinned at her. ‘ _I knew you could do it,_ ’ was what his eyes told her.

She took another breath and continued. Her voice was stronger this time. More confident. Her voice rose with the next few lines as the tune rose into a soft crescendo.

_“Autumn leaves are gone now_

_Winter winds blow cold_

_But I'd dance through December_

_With your hand to hold_

_Oh it’s you I miss the most_

_Every time it snows”_

Despite the winter weather, Haru’s cheeks were flushed with success. The passersby who had been curiously watching had been joined by a few others out in their Christmas shopping, but Haru hadn’t noticed them yet. Her eyes were fixed on Baron, just like he had asked.

Her eyes sparkled as she reached the end of her solo; a thought flashed across Baron’s mind of how beautiful she was when she was happy. He guessed that was why he liked to make her smile.

His own smile widened and gently he broke into the second verse.

_“Carollers and revellers_

_Their songs are bittersweet_

_The streets are full but they can't fill_

_The emptiness in me.”_

He looked up from the music sheet; confident enough in the lulling chords to meet Haru’s gaze instead of the music. His hands moved the bow across the strings with a flowing fluency even as his mind wandered away from the instrument in his hands.

Sometimes it seemed so strange to think of his life before he had met Haru; before Father Winter had blessed him with humanity. How had his life not been empty before the brunette entered his life? Surely he must have been aware that there was something vital he was missing; something that he could not imagine life without.

_“Christmas lights are sparkling_

_But still they lack a glow.”_

Why did his mind think of Haru’s eyes at that line? Perhaps it was just because their eyes were so centred on each other, but it had to be something more. He liked her eyes; the beautiful soft shade, the way they could convey so easily – at times – the thoughts and emotions behind them. He hadn’t truly noticed them when they were in the Cat Kingdom, but for the last month, he had noticed their enchanting beauty.

Haru smiled shyly at her lodger, and softly joined in with the next line; her eyes indisputably focused solely on her partner.

_“Everything reminds me_

_That you're too far from home_

_Oh it’s you I miss the most_

_Every time it snows.”_

Their voices entwined, they moved into the haunting, twisting chorus – or what was probably closer to a bridge – and their faces lit up as they came ever closer. The violin momentarily ceased and, for a few enchanting, captivating seconds, it was their intertwined voices that filled the Crossroads. The normal hum of shoppers bartering and the drone of constant footsteps had diminished – not fallen silent, but had soothed to a gentle pulse.

The violin lulled a few more chords as the bridge ended, giving them enough time to register the reduced distance between them. Haru smiled shyly once again, but neither made a move to increase the distance.

Softly, a little breathlessly, Haru whispered the last few lines. Baron entered at the third line, and the pair of them murmured the final line in perfect harmony.

_“Spiralling and trembling_

_The snowflakes tumble down_

_Fluttering like angel wings_

_They fall without a sound_.”

A murmuring chord trembled on the violin and finally faded away.

Haru’s gentle smile split into a grin and she impulsively hugged Baron. He returned the embrace, not even considering resisting, and a disorganised splattering of applause filtered from various areas of the Crossroads; mainly from the carol singing group.

“Oh my... Oh my...” Haru was still exclaiming. “Thank you, Baron!”

“For what?”

“I’ve never sung in public before... I didn’t think I’d have the courage to do it.” She released Baron enough to look into those emerald eyes. “Thank you.”

“You have enough courage to stand up to a king, and yet the thought of public singing terrifies you?” he replied back in gentle mockery.

“Yes. Yes, it jolly well does. But I could do it with you here, so... thank you again!” She hugged him once again, still from a high from their success, and Baron once again returned the embrace.

“You’re welcome, Haru.”

ooOoo

Kazuko grinned at her sister. “Want to take back that bet yet?”


	16. Friday 16th December 2011

_So I sing for you_

_Though you can’t hear me_

_When I get through_

_And feel you near me_

_I am driving home for Christmas_

_Driving home for Christmas_

_With a thousand memories_

_x_

**Friday 16 th December 2011: A Thousand Memories**

“You look cold, Baron.”

Baron’s returning smile was a little frigid, but this was caused more by the plummeting temperatures more than any personal distain on his part. “And you, Jack, should put another layer on,” he replied. “Just looking at you is making me colder.”

Jack tugged at the edge of his jacket, shrugging in the same action. “Two layers seem perfectly adequate for a winter’s day. Perhaps you should work at becoming more accustomed to the cold, Baron.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past ten days?” the once-Creation mumbled. He pulled his own black coat – the borrowed coat that had become a personal favourite – closer around him in an instinctive form of defence against the bitter cold. “Have you also been invited to the ice skating rink?” he asked, as a way to move the conversation on.

“I believe Elsie mentioned it yesterday, yes. You?”

Baron nodded.

The pair of them were heading away from the Conference Centre; despite the fact that the ice sculpting event had finished, guards were still required for other events, and Jack had somehow become an unofficial guard rather than odd-job-doer. Which suited him on the whole. Baron had walked past the Centre after his work had finished, and had accidently met Jack on the way. It appeared they shared a common destination.

Jack walked in silence for several minutes as they both made their way to the indoor ice rink; his expression suggesting that he was following a complicated train of thought. Baron did little to interrupt this and so they walked in almost-companionable silence for several streets.

Then, just as suddenly, Jack broke the silence.

“Baron, how do you feel about Miss Haru?”

If Baron had been the type for sarcastic remarks on a regular basis, he might have replied with a sarky, but entirely unhelpful, reply. As things stood, though, his reaction was just to stop involuntarily. He chuckled dryly; he wasn’t entirely sure why, but the whole situation seemed almost humorous. He turned to Jack.

“I have been asked that question – or related variants – repeatedly since my transformation to human,” he said, still chuckling dryly. “Merely because Haru and I are now the same species does not necessarily mean that I would harbour feelings for her.”

“Who said anything about the feelings forming after you became human?” Jack inquired. He tilted his head sharply in a distinctively questioning manner. “You do like her, don’t you? I may not have extensive knowledge in human emotions or cognitions, but even I am not blind to it.”

“Neither is anyone else, by the look of things,” Baron added quietly, thinking of Hiromi’s approach the day before.

“After yesterday’s show, do you really expect anyone to still be ignorant?” Jack asked.

“I guess not.”

Jack didn’t reply immediately; he appeared to recede back into his thoughts. But as they came further into the town, and the indoor sports centre came into sight, he spoke once again, in a quieter voice than Baron thought him capable of.

“You do like Haru though.”

“I… Yes. Yes, I do.”

“For how long?”

“For nearly as long as I’ve known her.”

Again, Jack receded back into silence; drawn into contemplation by Baron’s answers. The once-Creation thought that the conversation was at an end, but apparently it was not to be so.

“It was… moving,” Jack begun quietly, using the last word with caution as if it were a word foreign to his vocabulary, “to see the pair of you together. I don’t remember feeling that way before.”

“You have seen more winters than I have,” Baron commented. “It cannot have been the first time you saw…”

“A couple?” Jack gave Baron a look before the latter could complain over the definition. “If looks could speak a thousand words, you would be a couple. The fact that you have not admitted those feelings is neither here nor there. Anyway,” he continued, “it was… moving to see the pair of you.” He used that word again, but with a slight hint more of confidence. He paused, and then added, with a trace of confusion, “It was a most unusual feeling. In all my winters have I never felt stirred by anything I have seen.”

Baron laughed, despite everything. “Then, I am afraid what I must diagnose you with is humanity. There is no cure.”

“I suppose that explains it.”

Jack said this in such a way that made Baron look at his companion once again. “Is everything going smoothly?” he inquired politely.

“It was nothing but a trick of the mind. I hear the brain is particularly prone to self-deceit,” Jack insisted. His words were almost spoken to himself.

“What are you referring to? Are we still discussing yesterday’s duet?”

“No… Not the duet at any case.”

“Then what is it that appears to be plaguing your mind? There is something; you cannot deny it.”

For a moment, it looked like Jack was going to attempt the denial option, but then he appeared to opt out. “It was nothing,” he insisted. “It was just…” The lie to downsize the problem died on his lips. He started again. “Yesterday, when I returned to the Bureau, the task of changing to a size to which the Refuge could accommodate me took significantly longer than usual.”

“In brief, your magic didn’t work to its usual standard.”

“Yes. For a moment it was as if… I had lost my magic entirely.” He turned to Baron. “How do humans live without magic?” he asked.

“How can they miss something they never had?” Baron replied. He paused, remembering Haru asking something very similar, but on the topic of her father. Had that only been the start of the month? So much had happened since then; he found it hard to believe that so little time had actually passed. Then again, half the month was up; all-too-soon it would be time to return to Creation. He wondered whether he could bargain with Father Winter another week… another five days or so… just until New Year’s Eve… But it wouldn’t be fair on Haru or her mother; they were lodging him, after all. Still, if he promised to pay for his stay, perhaps he could persuade Naoko…

“You really should get that look checked,” Jack commented dryly.

“Excuse me?”

The once-spirit shrugged. “I may not be well-versed in the nuances of facial emotion, but if that isn’t lovesickness, then I don’t know what is.”

Baron snapped his expression back to a sort of cool indifference – or it may have looked closer to a high on caffeine, but in his haste to move away from the diagnosed ‘lovesickness’ he hadn’t taken excessive time to construct a perfectly unconcerned expression. He held the expression for a few seconds and then it collapsed into a resigned sigh. “Is it really that obvious?”

“I’m afraid that if even I can spot it, then it is pretty bad.”

They came to the entrance of the sports centre, and both paused, even though Baron had little desire to remain outside in the cold. Still, even as the bitter winter cold buffeted itself against his black coat, dropping the temperature by another few degrees, he made no move towards the warm interior of the building.

“Please, don’t mention this to Haru. It would only make things more difficult.”

“You should tell her.”

Baron gave the once-spirit a look. “I thought you said you weren’t an expert on humans.”

“I’m not,” Jack answered easily, “but apparently this human heart of mine can tell me more than my mind can. And my heart is telling me that you should admit your feelings for her. I’m not the only one with recently acquired humanity; you cannot pretend that you are not also aware of that.”

“My humanity is temporary,” Baron replied. “Come this Christmas, and everything will be as it once was. You have been given the chance to be human for the rest of your life; I have not.” He made to enter the building.

“You could still tell her how you feel,” Jack commented quietly.

Baron stopped, his hand resting gently against the door. “I could,” he admitted. “But what good would that do? There are less than ten days until Christmas.”

Jack walked over to the other temporary human; he didn’t meet his gaze, but stared in the pretence of absent-mindedness into the glassy window showing the interior of the centre. A curving desk was situated near the front, paired with a bright-eyed receptionist ready to greet – or pounce, as the case may have been – on any individuals to enter the building. Jack was looking inside, like Baron, but neither were really seeing. If anything, his attention was more focused on the reflection of Baron in the mirror.

“A miracle, however short-lived, is still a miracle,” he commented in the same quiet voice. “And you have been given a miracle. You should never have become a human and yet, here you are.” He smiled, but for once the smile was a softer action than the usual acute grin. “I guess this human heart is also well-versed in the spirit of Christmas.”

Jack waited for Baron’s reply, but it seemed it was not about to happen. Sighing, Jack let it go and made his way into the building. “Just think it over, Baron. A miracle is still a miracle. Don’t forget that.”

ooOoo

“Haru, it looks like Baron’s finally arrived!”

“He has?” At Hiromi’s call, Haru skimmed the barriers of the rink for any sign of her lodger. On spotting him, she skated to the side; almost slipping at one point and requiring Baron to catch her lower arms to prevent her from falling.

“Heh, thanks.” Haru looked a little embarrassed at her accident-prone nature, but she didn’t try to move away from Baron’s support. “Sorry about that.”

Baron, who was standing on the other side of the barrier, smiled back. “It is fine. I wasn’t aware that you could ice skate though.”

“I can’t,” was Haru’s reply. “It was Hiromi’s idea, and I only agreed because she wouldn’t leave me alone until I said I would come. She’s having a ball though.”

Baron could see the other brunette skating across the ice, accompanied by a dark-haired boy. “She does look like she’s enjoying herself. Who is the boy?”

“Oh, that’s Tsuge. Her boyfriend.” Haru spared a glance to see Jack making his way onto the ice. “Meh, it seems like everyone’s paired up today, what with Hiromi and Tsuge, and then Elspeth and Jack...” She trailed off, suddenly aware that that only left her and Baron. “Not that I was insinuating anything about us,” she quickly added. “It was just a statement; I wasn’t really thinking, that was all...” She trailed away again, but this time didn’t attempt to pick up her train of thought again.

“No, I understood what you meant,” Baron reassured. “Just because we’re the only unpaired couple doesn’t mean that...”

“Exactly,” Haru hastily interrupted. “You know, we’re just friends.”

“Yes.”

There was an awkward pause as neither made a move away from the other. It registered in Baron’s mind that he was still holding Haru, and he hastily released her, on seeing how close their faces were. Unprepared for the abrupt lack of support, Haru almost slipped. Baron instinctively caught her lower arms in the same manner as before; leaving him in the same position as before.

“Sorry, I probably should have said–”

“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Yes, well, I saw that.”

They met the other’s gaze and – perhaps because the last few days had been an emotional rollercoaster and perhaps because it had tired them out – they began to laugh.

After a few moments, the laughter had died away, but they felt more comfortable than they had been a long while; the tension had faded somewhat.

“I’m glad I met you, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen,” Haru said suddenly. “I really am.”

“And I feel the same way about you, Miss Haru Yoshioka.”

ooOoo

“Well, they’re finally making their way onto the ice together.”

“When do you think they’re going to admit their feelings?”

Elspeth shrugged. “I wish I knew. They both seem so reluctant to say anything about it. They keep on mentioning barriers... It seems as if there is more going on than we know, doesn’t it?”

Jack’s reply was a noncommittal grunt. He had a pretty good idea of the aforementioned ‘barriers’ that kept cropping up in conversation. “Perhaps we should give them some space.” He watched the couple venture further out; Haru clinging rather precariously to Baron’s arm as her feet skimmed for grip, while Baron himself stepped onto the ice with more confidence.

There was some cheerful conversation between the couple, followed by some laughing and then good-natured screeching from Haru as Baron spun her around. She stumbled across the ice, almost losing her balance several times, but every time being caught before she sipped. For several moments, she almost looked at home on the ice, almost graceful. More laughter ensued as she was given the confidence to skate independently with Baron’s encouragement, skating skittishly round in a loose circle. On coming back around, she misjudged her speed and skidded past Baron, grabbing his arm and consequently dragging the both of them off their feet. The two of them hit the ice with a thud, still laughing as they attempted to get back up.

“At least they make each other happy,” Jack commented after a moment. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes...” Abruptly, Elspeth sounded distracted. “Yes, I suppose it is. If the person makes you happy because they like to see you smile, rather than out of any feelings of duty. Then it is good.”

Jack tore his eyes away from the laughing pair at the edge of the ice, slowly progressing further out, and looked to the young artist to his side. “Is there something unsettling you?”

Elspeth grinned suddenly, but the action appeared almost forced. “Nothing. It was just a thought.”

“Elsie...”

“Try and catch me!” she abruptly cried and, with a click of her skates’ blades, she glided across the ice rink.

Jack picked up after her, easily catching up – ice was his element, after all – and skidded round to stop her from doing a repeat. “Elsie... What is it? Something has disturbed you.”

The young woman shook her head fiercely. “Nothing,” she repeated. “Really, it’s nothing. I just remembered a few... unpleasant memories, that was all.”

Perhaps if Jack had turned human more recently, he wouldn’t have picked up the undertone, he wouldn’t have known that Elspeth was hiding some truth, but he had been human too long and now the human instinct kicked in. He didn’t let Elspeth flee across the rink again. “Elsie, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. It’s evidently upsetting you.”

“Like I said before, it’s just memories.”

“Obviously disagreeable memories.”

“Memories can be forgotten, pushed aside.”

“Why doesn’t it look like this is the case?”

Elspeth resisted for a moment, and then surrendered. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She escaped Jack’s guard momentarily and skated round him. He quickly caught up, but didn’t try and bring her to a stop this time; instead preferring to skate alongside her.

“Fine. We won’t talk about it. But I’m always willing to listen.”

“You don’t want to be laden down with my worries.”

Jack gave a curious, comforting smile. “Try me.”

Elspeth opened her mouth, in the beginnings of words, but no sounds came out. Then, just as suddenly, she skidded to a halt; one hand resting lightly on the barrier behind her. A new look had entered her eyes. “Do you think two people should marry for love?” she abruptly asked.

Jack was stumped. He hadn’t been expecting that question. “Well, I... I don’t see what other reason someone would marry,” he eventually stuttered.

“Some would marry for money. Others would marry for power,” Elspeth filled him in. “Some would marry for convenience. And others... would marry because of family pressures.”

Some dawning understanding began to come over Jack. “Elspeth, are you married?” he asked. He had never thought to voice the question before. “Have you ever been?”

The young artist laughed, however the sound was bitter. “No. But I came very close to it at one point.”

“How close?”

“Right up to the aisle.”

“Did your family pressure you into the marriage?”

“Mine? No...” murmured Elspeth quietly. “No, I loved him. I thought he loved me back, but evidently... evidently not. It turned out it was only a case of duty.”

“I cannot imagine anyone marrying you merely out of a sense of duty.” He quickly added, when Elspeth gave him a look, “What I meant was, anyone who got to know you would surely possess other reasons for marrying you.” He paused and then, when he felt he was only burying himself deeper, he included, “Like your beauty. And your kindness.” He looked down at himself, a new emotion creeping over him – shyness. He was hardly even aware of it. “And your patience, which has put up with me for the last few days.”

A warm glow rose to Elspeth’s cheeks and Jack found himself wanting to say more to bring the smile onto the woman’s face.

“I know you’ve had to be patient with me, don’t deny it.” He skated round to Elspeth’s other side, steadily slowing down so that the distance between them was reduced, but not to the point that he was crossing into her personal space. “I’m hardly the easiest of people to get along with, I know that. But these past few days spent with you have been... educating.” He hesitated again, this time reddening a little. His face had never looked so coloured. “Perhaps that was the wrong word to use.”

Despite everything, Elspeth laughed gently. “Perhaps.”

“Let me try again. My time with you has opened my eyes; made me a better person.” Falteringly, Jack placed a hand on Elspeth’s slender one resting on the barrier. His actions were of a person who had seen such signs of affection before, but had never displayed them personally. “You are a wonderful person; anyone else who thinks differently isn’t worth your time.”

Elspeth laughed again, this time weakly, sadly. “I could have done with meeting you a good five years back,” she said quietly. “It could have saved me a lot of heartache.”

“What happened?”

“He got cold feet at the last moment.” The same laugh triggered. “I must admit, I felt pretty foolish being stood up at the front of the church.” Her voice betrayed the fact that it didn’t appear anymore entertaining in hindsight than it had at the time. “I thought he loved me,” she repeated brokenly. “But it appeared he just said those things because he felt it was the right thing to do. Because his family encouraged our relationship. Because he felt it was what was expected of him. If he had just told the truth, he would have saved a lot of heartache on both sides.”

Elspeth looked to Jack, a strangely vulnerable expression now present in those cloudy eyes. “Promise me you won’t lie to me. Promise me that if there’s something important I should know, you won’t keep it from me. I’ve had enough lies to last me a lifetime.”

For a moment, Jack looked uncomfortable. And then the look was discarded as he gave the reassurance Elspeth needed right now.

“I promise.”


	17. Saturday 17th December 2011

_City sidewalks, busy sidewalks_

_Dressed in holiday style_

_In the air_

_There's a feeling_

_Of Christmas_

_Children laughing_

_People passing_

_Meeting smile after smile_

_x_

**Saturday 17 th December 2011: A Feeling Of Christmas**

“Turn up the music; I like this song. It’s… Christmassy.”

Haru complied with Hiromi’s request, even as Muta snorted from his vantage point from the sofa.

“All songs this time of the year of Christmassy,” he commented gruffly. “She shouldn’t react as if it’s so unusual.”

“Oh, shush, Muta.”

Hiromi paused in her task of tacking the sparkling tinfoil ‘Merry Christmas’s to the top of the cupboards. She swayed dangerously from her position on the chair that she had required to stand on to reach the point. “What was that, Haru?”

“Nothing. I’m just talking to Muta.”

“The cat?” Hiromi made a face, but didn’t move too much for fear of upsetting the precariously veering chair. “You’re talking to the cat?”

“Yeah.”

Hiromi considered this, and then shrugged. The chair wobbled in protest against the movement. “You know, you should talk to someone about that. Take tablets or something.”

“If I didn’t know you were joking, I’d be insulted.”

“Yeah, but you know I am, so it’s no biggie.”

“You are so _mean_ to me!”

“I know!” Hiromi sang back. “And you still love me for it.”

“I could replace you, you know,” Haru threatened back teasingly. “Get a new best friend, or something.”

“Yeah, like who? Baron?”

“I wasn’t thinking of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Hiromi hummed disbelievingly. Leaning further out on the protesting chair, she slung the last finishing end of the tinfoil decoration along the top. “Anyway,” she added wickedly, “he’s boyfriend material, not best friend material. There’s a difference.”

Haru reddened and threw the glittery gold tinsel at the other girl. It fell short and ended up sprawled across the wooden floor. “Oh, give it a rest.”

“Won’t. Shan’t.”

“That’s so childish.”

“I know. Anyway, I won’t stop until you and him are finally together.”

“You’ve known the guy for – what? – ten days?”

“Twelve,” Hiromi corrected. She jumped down from the chair and collected the gold tinsel from the floor.

“Whatever. What makes you so insistent that I should date him?”

“Because I’ve known _you_ for thirteen years, Haru. Not even your crush on Machida made you smile so much. Ergo,” she said with a flourish of the tinsel, “you should date him.”

“I’m siding with her,” Muta added.

“You two are just... unbelievable!”

“Wait, the two of us?” Hiromi repeated.

“Yeah,” Haru sighed. She pointed to the cat occupying the sofa. “Muta agrees with you too.”

“Huh, I guess the cat isn’t just an overweight cushion after all.”

“Watch it, girly!”

Haru sighed again. She made a silencing action to Toto outside, who evidently had heard the comment, if his cackling was any indication. The last thing she needed was to explain to Hiromi how she had acquired a tame crow. “Hiromi, try not to insult Muta. He tends to take everything rather personally.”

“I do not.”

“Do too,” Haru retorted.

“Do not.”

“Do–”

“Um, Haru?” Hiromi interrupted cautiously. “Are you really arguing with the cat?”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Okay, fine.” Hiromi shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Haru picked up the trailing end of the gold tinsel and passed it to Hiromi. “Could you just pin that up? And give it a rest with the oh-so-funny replies. I’m splitting my sides with laughter already.”

“Thanks.” Despite Hiromi’s flat reply, she set to work with relative joviality, still humming a few Christmas carols under her breath. Haru turned to organised the upturned box of seasonal decorations.

“I still agree with your friend on the Baron front,” Muta commented idly.

“Oh, give over,” Haru muttered, reddening furiously. “Look,” she whispered, “all I had on the agenda today was decorate the house, listen to a few carols and perhaps have a few of the lubkucken.”

“Lebkuchen,” Muta corrected.

“Whatever. Gingerbread biscuit things; they’ll still taste the same whatever you call them. _Anyway_ , being lectured by you two was _not_ on that list!”

 “Fine. Fine, whatever. The only reason you’re getting so testy is because you know we’re right.”

“I’m _not_ getting testy!”

“Haru, you’re talking to the cat again.”

“Yes, Hiromi, I know,” Haru sighed. She turned back to Muta and carried on a furious whisper. “I wish you’d stop telling me what to do; it’s _my_ life.”

“Hey, Chicky, if everyone’s telling you to hook up with Baron, then maybe everyone’s got a point.”

“Well, those are helpful words of wisdom.”

Hiromi paused in her task to see Haru having a hushed discussion – no, _argument_ – with the tubby cat. She rolled her eyes and carried on with her task.

“You can’t keep on ignoring everyone. Beaky told me about last Thursday – come on, there is evidently something between you and Baron.”

“I didn’t think you two were on speaking terms?” Haru pointed out.

“You’re getting off the point here.”

“Perhaps I want to get off the point!”

“Haru,” Hiromi called, “I see a distinct lack of decorating going on there! I thought you wanted to get the majority of this done before your mother returned from her Christmas shopping in the city.”

“Ah. Perhaps we should actually get some decorating done then.”

“Perhaps,” Hiromi agreed, grinning..

With the Christmas carols still jingling merrily away in the background, they steadily set to work snaking strands of tinsel along the surfaces and setting down aging ornaments by the window. Some were older than Naoko, while others were the makeshift variety that was the result of Haru’s childhood creativity. When the pair of them actually began putting their mind to it, the task was significantly quickened, and soon they were approaching the point where they only had to drag the thinning Christmas tree down from the attic.

They both stared at the patch where the tree would eventually go.

“When did you say Baron would be finishing work?” Hiromi asked idly.

“Are you thinking of roping him into carrying the tree?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, he’s not due back for another ten minutes.”

“We can procrastinate until then.”

“Your optimism is limitless,” Haru replied sarcastically. She raised an eyebrow as Hiromi treated her to the best puppy eyes she could muster. “Okay,” she sighed dramatically, “but you can make the pair of us a hot chocolate.”

“And some cake for the cat!” Muta cried.

“Alright, and some cake for the cat.”

Hiromi paused, already in the process of emptying out Haru’s cupboards. “Cake for the cat?” she repeated doubtfully. “Haru, are you quite sure he needs it? Any rounder and your mother might just mistake him for the Christmas pudding.”

Haru could see Toto cackling evilly from outside. She decided to ignore him.

Muta didn’t.

“Hey, birdbrain; laugh any harder and your beak might just fall off!” he yelled. Even Hiromi looked a little surprised at the intensity of the cat’s yowls, even if she couldn’t understand what was being said. “You think you’re so clever, but while you’re freezing your feathers off outside, I’m nice and toasty inside!”

“Creations don’t get cold, pudding-breath,” Toto retorted. “Perhaps you should be concentrating on exercising your brain more than your stomach!”

Haru resisted the temptation to face-palm herself. While Muta’s meows may have been incomprehensible to Hiromi, Toto’s reply would be perfectly intelligible. Her friend spun round, understandably shocked by hearing a strange masculine voice nearby.

“What was that? Haru, did you hear–”

“No,” she quickly replied. “The radio just tuned into another station, that’s all it was.” She casually leant against the kitchen cabinets lining the wall and just so happened to knock against the window where Toto was situated outside. “It won’t happen again.” She knocked against the window again, digging her elbow into the glass as a solid reminder to the stone crow.

Hiromi watched her friend’s actions. “Are you alright, Haru?”

“I’m fine.” Haru moved her elbow away from the window and smiled sweetly. “It’s all fine.”

Muta hadn’t quite finished with his argument though.

“Hah! Now who needs to concentrate on exercising their brain? At least I haven’t got a birdbrain!”

Before Toto could even be tempted to remind Muta that this was much-used insult, Haru swept up the heavy feline and dragged him out of the lounge. Her progress down the hallway was marked by the irate yowling of Muta, furious at the treatment.

“If you must argue, do it outside!”

This was accompanied by the unlatching of the front door, the continuing yowling of Muta, and then the consequential slamming of said door.

Muta sat on the porch, staring rather disbelievingly at the house. He still hadn’t quite finished yet.

“Hey, _Chicky_ ; what about the lebkuchen?”

Some stormy footsteps – Haru’s, he assumed – made their way back into the kitchen. He pricked his ears expectantly, daring to hope she would feed him. There was the scrape of the fridge door opening; he moved to the side of the house where the kitchen was, followed by two biscuits being unceremoniously thrown out the window.

The window was slammed shut after that.

On the inside, Hiromi was looking from the slammed window to her friend with raised eyebrows. “Feel better now?”

“Yep.” Haru collapsed down on the chair, leaning back to inspect their efforts on the room. She decided that once the tree was up, it’d look very Christmassy indeed. She felt a little bad for her short-tempered behaviour with Muta, but couldn’t help thinking that he had been tempting fate by attempting to spark an argument with Toto.

Hiromi set a steaming mug of hot chocolate down on the table. To Haru’s delight, it was filled high with marshmallows and cream. Not that she was always so unhealthy but, well, winter was winter.

“Have you got Baron’s present yet?” Hiromi asked. She sat back with her own creamy mug of hot chocolate, swirling the contents absent-mindedly with a spoon. “If you leave it too late you’ll end up panic-buying, you know.”

“Where has this train of thought come from?” Haru queried.

“I was just opting for safer grounds than the topic of your feline peculiarities.”

Haru made a face, but the full impression was somewhat lost as she took a sip of her drink and was left with a cream moustache lining her upper lip. She licked it clean before replying. “I haven’t decided what to get him yet. Nothing I think of quite seems right. And guys are so difficult to buy for.”

“I got Tsuge a watch last year.”

“Yeah, but you’re going out with him.”

Hiromi gave a wicked grin. “Yeah, and?”

Haru gave her friend a playful shove, careful not to spill her own drink in the process. “And I want to buy Baron a present that doesn’t seem like something a girlfriend would give. Something that says that...”

“That you’re happy just being friends?” Hiromi supplied flatly.

“I suppose so.”

Subtle stress lines were creeping across Hiromi’s brow. “But you’re _not_ happy just being friends,” she pointed out.

Haru opened her mouth several times, and then closed it when no deflecting response came magically to mind. “What would you have me do, Hiromi?” she eventually asked. “He’s going to be leaving at the end of the month, perhaps before then. It would just be cruel, for me and Baron, if we got our hopes up.”

“I look at it this way; does he make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell him how you feel and break this dumb stalemate.”

“And you really think it’s really that simple?”

“Have you seen how the two of you look together?” Hiromi demanded. She waved her arms out for dramatic emphasis. Her cup of hot chocolate was rapidly placed on the side to prevent accidental spillage. “I mean, whenever he’s around, you look as if he’s plucked every star in the sky just for your personal perusal.”

Haru paused; the cup was halfway raised to her mouth. She set it down. “Literature lessons really have been getting to you, haven’t they?”

Hiromi grinned cheekily. “We’ve been doing Romeo and Juliet.”

“Ah.”

Haru let her gaze wander out the window, to where Muta and Toto could be seen fighting over the lebkuchen. Haru had never put Toto down as being particularly food-motivated, but she had a nagging feeling that he was only bickering over the biscuits because it would guarantee to annoy Muta. She got to her feet. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The window was thrown open and she peered out into the dimly-lit garden.

“Hey, guys; there’s a biscuit for each of you there. Give it a rest or I’ll set Baron on you!”

She closed the window behind her, clicking it shut with a decisive action.

“Um, Haru? I don’t think they’ll be able to understand you, let alone follow your orders.”

Haru laughed. “Oh, they understand all right. Anyway, what were we discussing before I had to babysit those two out there?”

“The fact that you and Baron should get together.”

“Oh.” Haru thought for a moment. “What were we discussing before that?” she added after a moment.

“Um, I believe it was the topic of Baron’s Christmas present. And you do need to get it soon or you’ll just get yourself in a muddle.”

“I know, I know.” Haru sighed and leant back in her chair, retreating into the safety of sipping cautiously at her drink. It was safer than being engaged in conversation, anyway.

Of course she knew. She had been silently stressing over it for the last ten days, if not longer. Suddenly she had been faced with the dilemma of getting Baron a present that he would be able to keep even when he reverted to Creation; something that he would find useful when he was no longer human. She had seriously considered a new cane, like one of the ones from the stall in the Christmas market, but, like he had commented back there, it was too extravagant and she had got him one before anyway. It would be unoriginal to buy the same type of gift twice. She had also thought about getting him one of the wooden nutcrackers, but it didn’t seem quite right when she considered that it would be like a full-sized doll when Baron became his normal size.

So, after much consideration, she had got precisely nowhere in her predicament. She just hoped her mental block would clear sometime _before_ Christmas.

Her silent contemplation was broken when a familiar figure appeared at the doorway to the main room.

“I don’t know whether you’re aware of this, but Toto and Muta are fighting tooth and claw outside,” Baron remarked calmly.

“Darn it, and I told them to give it a rest.”

“I told you they wouldn’t listen,” Hiromi commented smugly.

“Yes, yes; you’re very smart.”

“I know I am.” Hiromi finished the last dredges of her hot chocolate and set down the mug on the side, setting it beside various other pieces of cutlery debris. That done, she headed over to Baron, grinning innocently. “Oh, and now you’ve arrived, Baron, could you do a huge favour and get the Christmas tree from the attic?”

Laughing, Haru whacked her friend on the shoulder. “Hiromi, could you at least let him in before you rope him into this?”

“He’ll survive,” was Hiromi’s blunt reply. “So will you fetch it for us? We waited for you to return so we could do the Christmas tree together.”

“We waited because neither of us wanted to fetch it, remember?” Haru reminded her friend.

“That too.”

Baron smiled at the two brunettes and swept off his hat in a gentlemanly bow. “Anything for two damsels in distress.”

Haru grinned back. “I would probably follow that up with an equally cheesy line like, ‘Brave knight, I pray you accept this favour as a token of my gratitude,’ but I don’t have a handkerchief on me. I think the closest I can get to it is kitchen roll.”

“Kitchen roll would do fine.”

“When you two have quite finished _flirting_ ,” Hiromi put in. “I asked him to fetch a tree, not slay a dragon. Honestly, you two are as bad as each other.”

Haru and Baron exchanged grins.

“Fine by me.”

ooOoo

The Christmas tree was located with little incident – no dragons, Hiromi was quick to point out – and following that, it was set up with barely a glitch. (Apart from that one episode involving the curtain rail, but they had easily been able to set that back in place.) The tinsel that had not been used to decorate the rest of the house was wound round the tree, with Baron being required to wind the last few sections at the top due to his height, and the Christmas lights were dutifully collected from their box and unravelled before being applied to the evergreen. Haru had had two sets of Christmas lights in the attic – one being the set still lighting up the Refuge – and both sets had needed untangling before application. Again, Haru couldn’t help wondering how they ended up so tangled after a year of doing nothing. What did they do in the attic anyway to get in such a state? Dance?

Unbidden, Haru’s mind wandered back to that first day of December when she had helped decorate the Bureau. That day hadn’t been so different to today, and yet today she was standing alongside Baron; standing shoulder to shoulder – or as close as she could manage – and decorating the Christmas tree together. Hiromi was there too, but she had fallen back to deal with something else – Haru wasn’t concentrating entirely on her friend, so she may have just been collecting more decorations out from the box.

Haru brought out a set of wooden ornaments – older than she was, if her mother had told her right – and started to loop the silver string over the ends of the tree’s fake evergreen branches. For a few of the higher branches, she needed to lean against Baron for support and she couldn’t quite deny the fact that her heart sped up at the contact.

And, of course, the blush was entirely coincidental.

“Say cheese, guys!”

There was the blinding flash of a light and the pair of them were caught irreversibly on film. Hiromi grinned wickedly, peering round from the digital camera. “Aw, and you two look so good together!”

“Hiromi!”

Haru moved away from Baron to chase Hiromi round the kitchen table. Hiromi kept the camera high in the air though, cooing over the picture for good measure with her friend in hot pursuit.

“Aw, and is that a blush I see on the photo? I think it is!”

“Hiromi! When I get my hands on you...!”

“Perhaps I should have waited a moment longer, and then I could have got an even better picture, this one of you kissing!”

“You are _so_ dead when I catch you!”

Baron would have chuckled, if he wasn’t too busy trying to bite back a flush of his own. All the same, he was smiling as the two brunettes ran circles round the table.

In the background, the radio was still spewing out tinny Christmas carols and, further out, the fight between Muta and Toto was still just about audible. Toto had resorted to cawing to ensure that he avoided another slip-up like last time, but he needn’t have worried right now; Hiromi was too preoccupied bating Haru.

And, further in the background, a few stray strands of snow spiralled gently down from the sky.


	18. Sunday 18th December 2011

_Dashing through the snow_

_In a one horse open sleigh_

_O'er the fields we go_

_Laughing all the way_

_Bells on bob tails ring_

_Making spirits bright_

_What fun it is to laugh and sing_

_A sleighing song tonight_

_x_

**Sunday 18 th December 2011: Dashing Through the Snow**

There was a ringing noise situated somewhere on Haru’s desk.

After several seconds, it was still ringing.

When it appeared the ringing would not cease without prompting, Haru’s hand flew out of the covers and struck the top of the cow-shaped clock. Automatically the hand withdrew back into the warmth of the covers and she rolled away from the desk.

It was still ringing.

The hand jolted out and struck the clock several times more before she realised that it wasn’t going to have any of an impact. Admitting defeat, Haru pushed herself out of bed and finally identified the source of the ringing noise as her phone.

Bleary-eyed, she picked it up before it could change to the answering machine.

“Hiya, Haru here.”

“ _Hey Haru! Go look outside!_ ”

Haru groaned. “Hiromi, get off the phone. I was sleeping a few seconds ago.”

“ _Just go look outside!_ ”

The brunette rubbed tiredly at her eyes, trying to remember whether she’d had a dream last night. “Why?” The dream had had something to do with a toyshop and then it had moved to a restaurant...

“ _Just go!_ ”

Haru ruffled her bedcovers in the pretence of opening her curtains. “There,” she lied, “I’ve done it. Now can I go back to bed?”

“ _You just ruffled your bedcovers, didn’t you?_ ”

“Yep.”

“ _For goodness sake, Haru; just take a look. It won’t kill you_.”

Haru trampled across her bed, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder. Leaning on the window sill, she pulled her curtains open to bring a winter wonderland into view.

“ _See? See, I knew you’d be surprised!_ ”

Haru noted that she had lapsed into silence at the unexpected beauty outside. The urban streets had lost their cream-or-grey tinge to a brilliant white and was hardly visible in the snow blizzard that was sweeping through the empty street.

“ _Haru? Haru?_ ”

“Oh, I’m still here.”

“ _So, what do you think? It’s great, isn’t it? But why couldn’t it have snowed last week, and then we could have had the day off school?_ ”

“Stop whinging.”

Haru could hear Hiromi grinning at the other end of the line. “ _Meh. So, are you coming?_ ”

Haru leant back and let the curtain fall back into place. “Coming where?”

Hiromi scoffed. “‘ _Coming where?’ she asks. To the hill outside the chippy, of course! Come on, let’s go sledging! I’ll see you there in an hour_.”

“Hiromi, just–”

The brunette sighed as the click of the phone told her that Hiromi had hung up. “Fine,” she murmured. “Right, okay.” The phone was placed back down on its cradle and she made her way round the room, dressing into warm clothes before turning to a search for her gloves and scarf, which were both _somewhere_ in her room.

The phone started ringing again; in her haste to pick it up she almost tripped across her room. However, she made it to the desk with little incident.

“Yes? Hiromi, is that you again?”

The laugh at the other end of the line confirmed this guess.

“ _Yep. Oh, and Baron’s invited too,_ ” she added. This appeared to be the main reason for her calling again.“ _I’ve got some spare wellington boots of my father’s that I could lend him_.”

“Right. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful. Is there anything _else_ you’d like to add before you hang up again?”

“ _Nope_.” Hiromi could be heard grinning at the other end, and now she appeared to deem the conversation over for she abruptly hung up.

Shaking her head, Haru placed the phone – once again – back in the cradle. She waited beside it for several seconds to see if there was anything else her mad best friend had to say, but as the seconds ticked by and the phone continued to remain silent, she came to the conclusion Hiromi had had her say.

“She is _way_ too awake for this time on a Sunday morning.”

She went back to gathering her clothes, picking up the gloves that had been hurriedly dropped and presently strewn across the floor in her rush to answer the phone. The thick, padded snow gloves weren’t so difficult to locate, and neither was her equally thick knitted scarf, although when it came down to finding a matching pair of thick socks in her drawer it was another matter entirely.

Eventually, when she had decided that she really wasn’t that bothered about having matching socks (although she still thought that the un-pair she’d chosen – one a bright and fluffy shade of pink, and the other from the same collection, but zigzagged with black stripes – were a little conspicuous) she headed downstairs. She knew that somewhere in the back room was an old sledge that she used every year in the snow, but since ten, or perhaps more, months had gone by since the last time she’d used it, she wasn’t entirely sure of its exact location.

The back room was originally a spare room. Perhaps if it had remained that way, Baron wouldn’t have needed to sleep on the sofa. As things stood though, that wasn’t an option. Due to the compactness of the attic – which was mostly filled with Christmas stuff and Naoko’s personal items from her younger life that she hadn’t had the heart to throw out – another room had been necessary for ‘stuff’.

Haru pondered on the usefulness of the word ‘stuff’ as she opened the door to the back room. For there was no other word really to describe the pile of cardboard boxes with various pieces of… _stuff_ packed tightly in. As Haru made her way slowly round one box containing her childhood books and eased herself between another two with copious toddler toys and what remained of her old bike (which had been reduced to the bare frame and one wheel, since the rest had either been thrown or somehow lost) she spotted the bright red sledge that she was looking for.

Unhelpfully it was stacked at the back of the room.

Unfortunately Haru had never been blessed with grace, and so it was unsurprising when she fell over the box with the surviving remnants of her plastic tea set. And, since it was made of numerous plastic pieces and was stacked in a barely closed box, the tea set made a loud and lasting crash as the contents fell across the floor.

“Ah… Ah, oh dear. Oh dear.” Haru made a few more explanations of ‘oh dear’ before she started to tidy it away in the quietest manner possible.

“Do you need help?”

Haru picked up her head too suddenly and promptly hit her head on the overhanging shelf of unused DIY tools. “Ow… That hurt.” She gingerly moved her head round, this time taking care to avoid the shelf, to see Baron standing in the doorway of the room. “Oh, hi Baron.”

The once-Creation made his way across the cluttered room; his balance made the task look almost easy, to Haru’s envy. He offered a hand and helped the brunette back to her feet. “Good morning, Haru. Now, what is the reason for your unusually early awakening on a Sunday morning, and what has led you here?”

“Well, if I’m to be honest, it was Hiromi ringing me up that woke me up,” Haru admitted. She sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, wondering why a huge bruise hadn’t started to swell up already. “It’s snowing outside.”

Of course, she had meant to link this rather abrupt statement with Hiromi’s early call and the intention to go sledging, but she had somehow forgotten.

Baron raised an eyebrow. “I had noted the weather outside, yes.” He tilted his head in a curious fashion. After a dubious moment, he added, “How hard did you hit your head?”

“Not hard enough to not realise that you’re being patronising,” Haru returned.

“Am I being patronising?”

“You’re getting very close to it.” Haru eventually dropped her hand from her head, giving up on nursing any possible bruise back to health and used her now-free hand to indicate to the back of the room instead. “Actually, I was planning on getting that sledge back there, but I didn’t quite get that far.”

Baron looked over to see the speck of red that revealed the location of said sledge. “Would it be appreciated if I fetched it?”

“Yes, it would be very much appreciated.”

With that same ease which Haru couldn’t quite deny she was envious of, Baron piloted his way to the far end of the room and started to un-lodge the sledge from its resting place. With his natural advantage in height, he was able to retrieve the sled without incident.

“Hiromi says that she can lend you a pair of wellington boots too,” Haru commented from the other end of the room. “So, if you want to come along...”

“I would be delighted.”

“Good.” Haru couldn’t deny that she was glad to hear that. However, her mind was accidently caught up in another train of thought as she watched the snow swirling down and was reminded of their charge. “How do you think Jack is coping with this weather?” she asked idly.

Baron chuckled. “Oh, I expect Jack is enjoying the winter weather as much as the next spirit.”

ooOoo

This wasn’t strictly accurate. While it was true that Jack was out in the snowy outdoors, he wasn’t exactly in a state of happiness.

“All I’m saying is that something very strange is happening,” he insisted in a low, unrelenting tone to the winter spirit he was addressing. “When I first agreed to this change, my magic was as strong as it was the first day of winter. But now… I can barely alter my height; in fact I am inclined to believe that the only reason I am still able to shrink to a height that the Refuge can accommodate me is purely because the place is lending me its Creation magic.” He gestured to the Refuge around him; the little courtyard was disappearing under the flurry of snowfall and the tops of the buildings had almost become a continuous layer of the white precipitate.

Father Winter didn’t look particularly hassled despite Jack Frost’s evident distress. In fact, he almost looked like he was biting back a smile.

“Did you think, Jack, that becoming human would be instantaneous? The process is a gradual one,” the winter spirit informed the temporary human. “And, since humans do not possess magic, you are gradually losing your magic. It is all just a part of being human and if you do not think you can handle it then we can always call off this trial now–”

“No.” Jack looked a little surprised at the forcefulness of his own outburst, but he didn’t back down. “I mean, I can manage this.”

Father Winter was still biting back a smile, but part of it slipped out this time, partially knowing in its tone. “Alright, but you will have to come to terms with the fact that pursuing this Elspeth Moroz will mean the loss of your magic. Permanently. There can be no regrets.” The spirit leant forward; he had forgone arriving with his stead this time, but he didn’t lose any of his majesty for it. He still looked like the personification of winter itself. “Do you love her enough for that?”

“I… Yes. Yes, I do,” Jack stumbled.

“I suppose only time will tell that. Now, I suggest you make your way to the hill round the outskirts of town. I believe that the majority of the youth are making their way to sledge there. A few of the adults are too, including your Elspeth, if my sources are correct.”

“Thank you.” Jack started to leave the Refuge, but he stopped before he made it through the arch. There was a nagging question hanging in the back of his mind; some little mismatch of facts that didn’t quite add up. Finally he pinpointed it. “The Creation… Baron, his magic has been absent since the beginning of his transformation. Why is that?”

This was replied with a laugh, naturally cold but as knowing as the smile had been. “I shouldn’t worry about that. The process works quicker for some than others.”

“Yes, but the process appears to have been nearly immediate for him.”

“Perhaps it was. I would not have been surprised.”

Jack looked away from the spirit, glancing out to the urban streets of Japan. The winter spirit appeared to be holding back certain truths. Somehow Jack just knew that the process had indeed been instantaneous with Baron; compared to his transformation which appeared to be taking its own sweet time with him.

Abruptly he turned back around. “Wait a moment, what do you mean–?”

He turned around to see an empty courtyard.

“Damn. I hate it when he does that.”

ooOoo

“Hiromi! Don’t you dare sledge over that snow ramp!”

“Who are you? My mother?” the shorter brunette could be heard to cry back. Fearlessly – and foolhardily, Haru couldn’t help but think – she sledged over the ramp-like pile of snow that had been specially sculpting for just such a use. The traditional wooden sledge lifted into the air for a few seconds and – for a heartbeat – almost appeared to fly before it came back down to hit the snow on one leg before toppling sideways and sending its rider skidding across the snow.

Haru hastily made her way down the slippery hill, running rather gingerly to reduce the risk of slipping herself. The last thing she needed was to slip and end up also needing rescuing.

“Hiromi, you idiot! Don’t you own _any_ common sense?”

Hiromi hazily picked herself up, but she was grinning madly. “I guess not. You should so totally try that! It’s like flying!”

“Yeah, for about a millisecond.”

“It’s the closest you’ll ever get to truly flying!”

Haru resisted chuckling at that. ‘ _I don’t think so_.’ “Come on, Hiromi,” she said aloud; “let’s get you and that poor sledge back to the top of the hill. Kenji is still waiting for his turn, don’t forget.”

The thought of her little brother standing at the top of the hill appeared to momentarily sober Hiromi up. “Alright.”

“And don’t encourage your brother to do the same. Do you really want to turn your brother into the same reckless idiot as you? Don’t answer that,” Haru quickly added. She continued to escort Hiromi back up the hill, dragging the wooden sledge behind them.

The sledge in question was several notches above the cheap plastic one that Haru had survived on for so long. It had been a Christmas present to Hiromi and Kenji (at the time though, only Hiromi was really old enough to ride it) from their father, carved – rather roughly, but with love – by the man. True, the red string that served as a rein was becoming a little frayed and was fading in colour, and there were several scratches on the sledge’s body from various exploits that Hiromi and her brother – and sometimes Haru – had gone on, but it was still much loved by the two siblings.

“Hey, Haru; are you okay?”

Haru tuned back in to Hiromi’s nattering to hear that her silence had set the other girl on edge. “What? Huh, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“You just went really distant.”

“I was just thinking,” Haru reiterated.

“Yeah, I got that bit. What about?”

“Oh, not much.” But Haru’s eyes betrayed her as they strayed longingly to the sledge towing silently behind them. Hiromi glanced to see that her sleigh was the object of Haru’s distraction. Her eyes dimmed a little.

“You’re not thinking of _him_ , are you?” she asked quietly.

The darker brunette abruptly shook her head. “Of course not.” She paused and they trudged up the hill for a few seconds longer. However, under the scrutiny of her best friend, Haru added, in a subdued tone, “You read me too well.”

“You shouldn’t bother to think about him,” Hiromi told Haru firmly. “He’s not worth your time. If he couldn’t be bothered to stick around his wife and his only daughter, then he doesn’t deserve your thoughts.”

“I know.” But Haru’s reply was wearied, as if this was a well-trodden line of conversation and the words had somewhat lost their potency in the repetition. “But, you know, I couldn’t help wondering… Christmas is meant to be spent with family, after all.”

“Yes, and he doesn’t count as family.” Hiromi suddenly hugged her best friend. “Hey, you’re like a sister to me. Me and your mother are your family. Kenji pretty much considers you like another big sister anyway.”

“That’s… uncannily deep for you, Hiromi.

“I know.” The lighter brunette considered this change and then returned to her usual quirky self. “Perhaps I should set up a consultation business. ‘The Advice Office’… That doesn’t quite sound right. What’s another word for office?”

“Bureau,” Haru supplied instantly.

“Hm, ‘The Advice Bureau’. What about ‘The Help Bureau’?”

“It sounds like the help tab on the computer.”

“Perhaps I should just stick with ‘The Advice Bureau’.” Hiromi mused this thought carefully and then, in complete juxtaposition to her previous mood, abruptly swung her arm out in a grand gesture. “I can see it already! The name in glittering, fluorescent lights! The consultation room!”

Haru laughed. Her friend may have been mad and overdramatic at times… okay, most of the time… but she knew how to put her back in good spirits. It was times like these that Haru remembered exactly why Hiromi was her best friend.

They arrived back at the top of the hill, once again laughing and in considerably better spirits than before, and once they had reached the others Kenji took his turn and challenged his sister to a race. Haru consented to Hiromi using her sledge – although it wasn’t exactly a fair race; Kenji was on the far superior sled – and the two siblings disappeared down the hill. That left just Haru, Baron and Elspeth (the latter two whom had been waiting at the brow of the hill previously) standing at the top. However, Elspeth disappeared down the hill when she spotted a certain young man making his way to them.

So that just left Baron and Haru.

Baron had been watching the sledging sport with interest from the start, although he hadn’t yet asked to take a turn. Haru rather got the impression he was gleaming all the information he could regarding the rather reckless sport before participating in it.

“Have you ever been sledging, Baron?”

Baron turned to the brunette just as the two siblings racing crashed into one another and landed haphazardly into a snow drift. He turned back at the noise, but on seeing the pair appear unscathed – if a little snow-covered – he turned back to Haru. “I have done similar activities in my time in the Cat Bureau; however they were rather impromptu and were used as means of transport rather than a source of purely enjoyment.”

Haru could believe that, just drawing on the sole experience of her Cat Kingdom adventure. “But you haven’t done sledging just for fun.”

“Not… exactly, no.”

“Oh.” Haru didn’t reply for several seconds and her attention appeared to have been drawn away from the exact topic of sledging.

“Has my answer made you uncomfortable?” Baron queried gently. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Of course it hasn’t; that would be shallow,” the brunette quickly responded.

“Is it something linking to that though?”

“I was just… remembering the conversation we had in the warehouse last Friday.”

“The one on the matter of my humanity?” When Haru nodded, Baron continued after a moment with, “And that is what has made you uncomfortable?”

“It just made me think of it, that was all. I still cannot get my head around the concept that… Well, that you…”

“Was not alive in the way you thought I was?” Baron offered.

Haru nodded her head mutely in the same fashion. “Sorry; it’s stupid. I got over my surprise back at the shop, but it was just the sudden memory caught me unawares and I–”

“It’s fine, Haru.”

“It was stupid of me to be surprised by the memory.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

They didn’t get much further in the conversation as Jack and Elspeth had reached the top of the hill where they stood. Hiromi and Kenji weren’t far behind either, but their progress was hindered by the dragging of the toboggan.

“Good morning Haru, Baron. You both look a little bit on the cold side today.”

Haru turned to grin to the approaching Elspeth. She had abruptly banished any gloom in the pretence of Christmassy spirit. “Well, it _is_ snowing.”

“Yes, but it does _not_ mean that it has reached artic temperatures here,” supplied Jack. “The pair of you look as if you’re preparing for your toes to freeze off.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Haru responded. “Elsie has spent her childhood in Scotland and she’s an ice artist and Jack is…” She trailed off as her brain forced her to end that sentence. It wouldn’t do for her to end it the way she had been planning to. Her hand, which had gestured to Elspeth previously, was now vaguely pointing itself in Jack’s direction as she searched for a way to end that sentence and still get her point across.

“Yes?” Jack asked smugly – he did look smug, Haru viciously decided – as he also waited for Haru’s response.

The brunette in question glowered and dropped her hand to her side. “Well, you’re just weird,” she finished lamely.

“Who’s just weird?” Hiromi had now joined them, with her little brother in tow. She grinned at the four before her. “Do I know them? Oh, and not to suddenly move the conversation on but–” And with this start, Haru knew that Hiromi was well aware that she was doing just so. “–I think it’s Haru and Baron’s turn to race.”

The two in question looked at each other, vaguely surprised by the sudden suggestion. Haru smiled and shrugged. “No time to learn like the present,” she offered.

“Great! And I’ll get the camera out.” All too readily, Hiromi had a camera in her hands; in fact, the appearance of the camera was so sudden that Haru doubted this was unplanned. “This should be entertaining.”

“Oh, _honestly_ , Hiromi.”

“Don’t wait for me; go race! Actually, don’t go yet!”

Haru, who was collecting her plastic sledge from the side, gave her friend a look. “Go race; don’t go race. Which do you want us to do?”

“I’ve got a better idea. You two should race against Jack and Elsie!”

The other four exchanged glances.

Jack was the first to speak up.

“There are only two sledges.”

Hiromi made a face. “You lot are so unbelievably narrow-minded. You can fit two on each. It’ll be fun!”

“Yes, right up to the point where I break my neck.”

“What’s wrong, Jack?” Haru mocked. “Are you afraid of snow?”

“Afraid of… I’ll show you who’s afraid of snow!”

Unashamed of his competitive spirit – and Haru had a nagging feeling that he could be _very_ competitive when he put his mind to it – Jack grabbed Hiromi’s sledge from the side and set it ready at the ridge of the hill. Grinning evilly – too evilly for Haru’s liking – Elspeth joined Jack.

“Prepare to lose.”

Haru turned to Baron. “We’re taking up their challenge, right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Laughing, Haru dragged Baron to the holly-red sledge. “Do you want to steer or shall I?”

“I’m sure I can work out the handling of a sledge. How hard can it be?”

“Can the teams stop flirting and get racing!”

“Hiromi; we’re just here. You don’t need to shout,” Haru commented as she sat behind Baron on the sledge. Since it was of the cheap, plastic type, it was less the toboggan and more the hollow piece of coloured plastic with equally brightly-coloured twine serving as the lead rope.

“Sorry.” Hiromi didn’t look that sorry at all. “I guess I’m just getting carried away.”

“Huh. I guess you did.”

“Right, on the count of three, go! Losers have to buy the rest of us soup from the chippy!”

“Hang on a moment…”

“Three! Go!”

Haru kicked off the sledge and it grudgingly started down the hill; painfully slow compared to Hiromi’s. “Cheat,” she grumbled, but, due to her position, this complaint was mainly addressed to Baron’s back. “She jolly well knows that this is the slower sledge.”

“Does the chippy actually sell soup?” Baron queried.

“Yep. Best soup in the area; we always go there after a snow day. And we’re going to be buying it all unless we beat Frost and his girlfriend.”

She could hear Baron grinning now. “Ah, well we can’t have that.” Kicking his feet out and tugging at the – practically useless – reins, he jolted the sledge onto one of the runs that had been established through many a sledge running over that patch. The snow was slicker here; it had been pressed into ice and so presented a great deal less friction than the fresher, less compacted snow further out. Now they were going faster, but not fast enough to catch up with, or even compete, with their competition.

“We’re not going to beat them!” Haru called over the roar of the wind battering past them. “I hope you’ve got cash on you for the soup!”

Baron shouted something back, but Haru didn’t quite hear it as the wind whipped it away the moment the words left his mouth.

“Sorry? I didn’t hear that!”

“I said, do you trust me?”

“Always!” Haru paused and then, asked a little dubiously, “Why?”

“Just hang on and trust me on this!”

‘ _Hang on to what?_ ’ Haru wondered for a moment. After a doubtful few more moments of indecision, she placed her arms around Baron’s chest. With her head now resting against his back, she missed what he added.

“What?”

“I said, how do you feel about flying?”

“Flying? I’d be impressed, but unless you’ve got some hidden talent you forgot to tell me about…” Haru abruptly trailed off as she remembered the snow ramp that Hiromi had built – and then proven to be less than perfect. “Oh, please don’t tell me we’re going to–”

Haru squealed and tightened her hold around Baron as he jolted the sledge onto the path that would take it directly onto the ramp. Her head buried itself into his shoulder as the sledge hit the incline of the ramp, and then left the ground entirely. She could feel Baron laughing.

She took back what she said about the flying experience lasting for a millisecond; it had to last for at least half a minute.

There was a bump, and then the sledge made an awkward landing. It tilted dangerously to one side, and then alternated to the other, before bouncing over a few rough patches in the snow and finally coming to a rather abrupt halt in the same snow drift that Hiromi and Kenji had hit earlier.

Haru opened her eyes and found that she was staring into a world of white. She blinked, and the snow caught on her eyelashes. She blinked again, and this time some of the snow on her lashes melted. The water ran into her eyes and down her cheeks, making her facial temperature drop a few more degrees. She pushed herself up and found that she had come off the sledge; the sledge was also wedged in the snow drift, with Baron easing himself out.

“I think that was a foul!” Jack was calling as he hurried over to the rather wet couple. “The challenge was specifically sledging; I don’t believe flying was included.”

Hiromi was slipping and sliding down the hill in a hurry to give a verdict. She rather clumsily arrived at the group of four, luckily without mishap. Her little brother was following, but with all the ingenuity of a twelve-year-old in the fact that he was deliberately sliding the way on his bottom.

“Haru, what do you call that?” the smaller brunette demanded. “I thought it was a sledging competition.”

“See?” Jack put in.

“Oh, and haven’t you regressed to the child?” Haru replied to Jack, grinning evilly. She supposed his competitive streak was showing itself. “Anyway, it wasn’t my idea. Baron was the one who suggested it. And he was steering.”

All eyes turned to Baron.

“Well, what do you call that?” Hiromi repeated.

Baron paused and then offered, “My initiative?”


	19. Monday 19th December 2011

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true..._

_All I want for Christmas is_

_You..._

_x_

**Monday 19 th December 2011: All I Want For Christmas**

“I see it’s still snowing outside.”

“I know.”

“I’ve heard it told that there’s the possibility of very bad weather this year.”

Haru yawned and glanced out the window where snow could be seen to be still falling. “People are always predicting the worst. I wouldn’t worry about it.” She glanced over to Baron; still partially amused to see he was not only wearing a pair of her grandfather’s slippers, but also a thick pair of woollen socks beneath them. “How are your feet?” she asked, guiltily biting back a smile. After yesterday’s fun in the snow, he had returned to the Yoshioka residence to discover the joys of pins-and-needles.

Apparently, Creations didn’t get pins-and-needles.

Humans did.

“Recovering,” was Baron’s curt reply. He continued to focus on whatever he was focusing on in the kettle corner of the kitchen and didn’t offer anything else that could possibly prolong the conversation on the topic of his feet.

Haru grinned to herself, and turned back to her own task of wrapping up her mother’s presents. It had taken quite a lot of persuading to convince her mother that she should go into town and get some more supplies, just in case they got snowed in. By the smile that Naoko had been wearing as she exited the house though, Haru couldn’t help but feel her mother had seen through the excuse.

The present in the process of being wrapped was a new organisation box for her mother’s quilting stuff; her mother had made various complaints of the inadequate state of her current one and had thus given Haru the idea of what to get her for Christmas. However, even the easy-to-wrap cube shape of the present didn’t make the task much easier.

“I always said that wrapping presents was a two person job,” she muttered under her breath as the wrapping paper – gold and ridiculously sparkly – came undone for the third time as she attempted to hold it down and reach for the cellotape at the same time. Attempting for a fourth time, she decided to cut the cellotape first this time, and then fold the paper around the box. She let out a growl when – again – it escaped her clutches.

“Ridiculous... darn... silly box...” she was muttering murderously to herself.

When she started to go for a fifth try, her efforts weren’t alone though. A companionable hand caught the wrapping before it could unfold again and undo all Haru’s work.

“Need some assistance?”

Haru grinned a little guiltily. “I seem to be asking for your help more and more often nowadays. I don’t know how I’m going to survive when you leave.”

“We will still see one another.”

“Yes, but it won’t be the same, will it?”

“No, I suppose not...” He trailed off in the manner of thought. Haru had to tap his hand to remind him that he was still holding the wrapping paper. He obediently released it and helped to place the cellotape where it was needed.

“You’re thinking,” Haru remarked after the top had been safely taped. “What’s the matter?”

“It was just striking me that it will feel quite strange to return to the Bureau. I have become rather fond of being human... of being with you, especially.” His latter comment was said with a glance in her direction as if ready to steer the conversation onto safer waters if the slightest indication that this subject was off-limits was given.

“And I have become fond of your company too, Baron,” Haru replied softly. She gazed down to the semi-wrapped present, momentarily forgetting the task at hand. “Very fond. I will miss you terribly when you leave.” She abruptly picked up her head to meet Baron’s gaze and the once-Creation was startled to see the emotion in those maple eyes.

Perhaps Haru had seen his surprise and perhaps she hadn’t meant for her eyes to betray her so, for she dropped her head just as quickly and pretended to concentrate on her mother’s present.

Mutely, Baron passed her the scissors when she appeared momentarily lost in purpose, and she silently took them and cut another piece of the tape. Baron felt like kicking himself. Fool! He should have realised that hinting at anything would just ruin their friendship.

“You know, I thought twenty or so days would be plenty,” said Haru unexpectedly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She was in the process of folding the ends of the wrapping paper, but she seemed to have lost the drive as her fingers let it slip through her fingers and unfurl. “Christmas seemed like such a long time away when you arrived on my doorstep,” she murmured, “and now we have less than a week before you... before _I_ lose you,” she finished.

Baron’s hands also lost their hold on the present, and the other end of the wrapping paper opened up again. His hand curled around Haru’s. “Lose me?” he repeated softly. “Why would you lose me?”

“You’ll go back to being a Creation after Christmas,” she whispered. “And we’ll never get to be together like this again. I don’t care that you’ll always be in the Bureau and I’ll always be able to visit you; I won’t be able to... go sledging with you again, I won’t be able to help you make lubkuchen–”

“Lebkuchen,” Baron corrected. He smiled softly to himself when he heard his amendment had made the brunette laugh breathlessly. But her laughter was just that – a little too breathless, as if she was having to fight back the beginning of tears.

“Whatever.” Looking down at their now intertwined hands, Haru returned the hold, curling her fingers around Baron’s. Her voice broke back into a whisper. “But all those great times that this month has brought... they’ll just be memories next year.”

“Aren’t you glad we were given this time together at least?” Baron asked gently. “We were given that at least.”

“I know, but...” A sigh escaped Haru’s lips and her head leant against Baron’s shoulder. She hadn’t meant to, but now she had followed through with the action she couldn’t bring herself to move away. “Oh, Baron, why can’t you just stay human?” she whispered. “Stay human and stay with me?”

Baron froze; his mind unwilling to process Haru’s soft words, afraid that he might have misheard.

“Haru...”

The brunette picked up her eyes and suddenly their eyes were scarily close. Haru’s maple orbs flitted across Barons emerald ones and abruptly she dropped her head away. “Sorry, that was... I shouldn’t have said...” Her hand loosened Baron’s and she started to back away, half stumbling, half falling over her own feet. Baron got to his feet too, a second after Haru but never letting Haru release his hand.

“Wait, Haru...”

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking aloud...”

“It’s fine...”

“I didn’t...”

Now they were standing beneath the doorway of the lounge, Baron still holding Haru’s hand with little intent of releasing it. Haru had her head partially turned away, as if ashamed of her words.

“I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” she whispered.

“Didn’t you?”

Baron’s other hand came round to rest on Haru’s cheek and gently brought her to meet his gaze again. He tenderly tilted her head so that there were mere inches between them and softly placed a kiss on her lips.

The kiss was momentary, fleeting, but the seconds after it stretched out for forever.

‘ _Please let that be the right thing. Please let her feel the same..._ ’

Haru blinked and at last those chocolate orbs focused on Baron, as if her whole world had just been thrown upside down. She blinked again, and this time a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She leant forward and returned the kiss.

And perhaps it was just coincidence but, at the top of the doorway, hung a small spring of mistletoe.

ooOoo

Jack was pretty sure he had the correct house.

Although, as he stood with a hand raised ready to knock, he experienced a few twinges of doubt. What if he had the wrong house? How would he find the right one then? Perhaps he had got the number wrong... or the street...

This decision was taken out of his hands though the moment the door opened without any prompting on his part. A middle-aged woman with jet dark hair stood in the doorway, shouting behind her to whoever was still inside.

“If you don’t get going soon, dear, you’ll miss the start!”

“I know! I know! I’m just getting my mobile!”

Jack’s confidence picked up at the sound of Elsie’s voice.

The woman at the door turned around and finally spotted Jack. “Yes? Can we help you?”

“I... um, I’m Jack Frost... I came to see if Elsie was here...”

The woman’s face split into a grin. “Oh, you’re the lad my niece keeps on talking about. I’d offer for you to come in, but she should be leaving in a moment.”

“Leaving? Leaving where?” If his memory served him correctly, Elspeth’s flight back to Scotland was tomorrow evening.

“Just to the town hall; don’t fret.” The woman – Elsie’s aunt, it appeared – turned back to peer inside her home. “Elspeth, dear, you really should get going!”

“Yes, I know!”

The dark brunette appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hurriedly flinging a bag over one shoulder and slipping into some sturdy boots at the same moment.

“Honestly, Aunt Rei; I doubt they will throw me out if I am a few minutes late.”

Elsie glanced over her aunt’s shoulder to spot Jack standing awkwardly on the doorstep.

“Jack? What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you... Since you’ll be going back to Scotland tomorrow, I just supposed...”

“You could both go to the town hall,” the elder woman suggested. “The classes are free, after all.”

“Aunt Rei, I don’t think Jack–”

“Yes, I’ll come,” Jack volunteered. Perhaps it was an ice sculpting class or something... He could manage that. And if it meant more time with Elspeth then... well, there was no question about it.

Elsie looked at Jack, sighed and then just shrugged. “Okay. But remember _you_ offered to come.”

“I shan’t forget.”

The young artist tugged a waterproof jacket on and headed outside, Jack calmly walking alongside her. The town hall wasn’t far away from her home – just a few streets – but it was enough for a short conversation. For the first minute or so, though, they walked in silence.

“The snow is getting pretty bad,” Elsie commented lightly. “Uncle Jirou said that it might get worse too. It’s been pretty bad in Scotland too.”

“Have you heard from your family?”

“They’re all doing fine.” The young woman chuckled slightly. “They’ve been snowed in enough times to be prepared for if it happens again this year. They’re all stocked up and have the snow chains ready and everything. I’m not worried for them.”

“But are you worried about something?”

“No... not really,” Elsie said slowly. “I suppose I’m a little bit concerned that my flight will get cancelled tomorrow, but what will happen, will happen. It’d be nice to spend Christmas with my family, but we can’t always get what we want.”

“Like the wedding you wanted?” Jack asked softly. Somehow he just knew that at those words, that thought had sprung up in Elspeth’s mind.

“Yes, like the wedding. You know, looking back, I wonder whether there were signs that I missed; some way I could have known that he didn’t really mean all those words he said to me.”

“How could you have known?”

“I should have questioned him more. I should have seen the fact that he wasn’t happy about the arrangement.”

“But you’re not like that,” Jack insisted gently. “It’s not in your nature to question someone; to doubt a person on their words. There is no shame in that.” A line he had once heard came to mind. “A person can go wrong by being too sceptical as readily as being too trusting,” he said quietly. And, personally, he began to understand that. It also began to dawn on him that he and Elspeth were opposites in that regard. Where she could be too trusting, he could be too sceptical.

Although, something recently had been changing.

Elsie gave a watery smile to her friend. “Thanks, Jack. That’s just what I needed to hear.”

“I’m glad. Because, you know, I’m not so good with this talking business.”

His words must have pleased Elspeth, because her smile became a spark more solid. “You say the right words when I most need to hear them,” she murmured. “And that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you.”

They arrived at the building marked as the town hall and the conversation died away as the building loomed over them. The building wasn’t quite the classic style that one usually associated as a town hall; it had once been a mansion for a well-off family, but when the heir had moved away and started a business on the other side of the world, it had been donated as a public building. It still kept remnants of its past history as an ancestral home, and still looked a little bit gothic, despite the council’s attempts to make it more inviting, but it had become a well-used building by the community.

“Say, Elsie, what class exactly did you say this was?”

“I never got round to it, but since you ask, it’s a flower arranging one.”

Jack very nearly swerved round and went back the way he’d come. As things stood though, it was a very near thing. “Flower arranging?” he repeated hoarsely. “I’m coming to a _flower arranging_ _class_?”

Elsie giggled; despite her past mood, the thought was just too funny. “Yes.”

“Why is there a flower arranging class in the middle of winter?” Jack demanded.

“A couple of ladies at the carol singing last Thursday suggested that I could come along for today, especially when I mentioned that I did a bit of flower arranging in Scotland.”

“You did flower arranging?”

Elsie raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised. In the village where I grew up, there weren’t that many people around, so as a child I was always recruited to help do the flowers for weddings. I would have done the flowers for my own wedding but... well, my fiancé didn’t think it was quite right.”

“Why not? I’m sure you would have made the prettiest flower arrangements there were.”

The young artist smiled. “Nice recovery.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyway, when I told the ladies that I had done a bit in my time, they offered for me to come along and try my hand at winter flower arrangements.”

“But, _why_?” Jack persisted. “Winter isn’t a time for flowers. Trust me on that.”

“What about the poor couples who have weddings in winter then?” Elsie replied, good-humouredly. “Are you saying they’re not allowed to have flowers?”

“No. They should have icicles and fake snow. Perhaps some holly and ivy if they’re feeling particularly festive.”

His companion opened her mouth to complain, and then took another look at Jack. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

Jack gave the brunette a look. “Yes.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you joke.” She grinned at the once-spirit. “But I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Jack wasn’t given time to consider the implications of this new development, for at that point they entered the town hall and started to make their way along the corridors.

On the inside, it was just as gothic as the outside suggested. The council had tried to make it light and airy, but their attempts had just looked gaudy and entirely out of place. Still, Jack couldn’t help thinking that setting up a flower arranging class in this place was either very brave or very foolhardy of the organisers.

“Jack, pick up your feet and come along,” Elsie called. She was standing by an ajar door from where the murmurs of conversation could be heard. “They’ve already begun.”

‘ _I can’t believe I’m going to do this_.’ Faking a smile – he hadn’t quite developed it yet, so it looked a little wolf-like – Jack nodded and followed after the young artist.

The room was brighter than the dark corridor he had just come from, but that was caused by the tall windows that took up the majority of one of the walls rather than the style of the room being naturally bright. Many of the elder women he had seen at the carolling event on the Thursday were there, fussing around the beginnings of flower displays and Elspeth had already been ushered to a chair. Jack numbly took one next to her, feeling a little better by the fact that at least the blooms they had been given were winter coloured.

“You look a little nauseous, Jack,” Elsie commented kindly when she saw the ex-spirit take his place. “You don’t get hayfever, do you?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered truthfully. “But I’m not a flower person.”

“It’s only a bit of fun.” The young woman grinned and leant over to him. “If you’re worried about your reputation, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not... I’m _not_ worried about my reputation,” Jack replied shortly. “I just... don’t... do flowers.”

“Just have a go at it. You never know; it might be even fun.” Elsie grinned again, a tad more wickedly. “You know, fun? Perhaps you haven’t come across it, but it’s what the rest of us enjoy in our spare time.”

She received an icy glare for that which she probably fully deserved. “I highly doubt that I will enjoy moving flowers around.”

“Just try, okay? Remember, you offered to come.”

Jack continued to glare. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“So, you’ll have a go?”

“Fine. I’ll try this floral pastime, but I won’t enjoy it.”

Elsie turned to her table with the flowers and foliage set to the side, raising her eyebrows. “Fine.”

For several minutes, Jack was content to glare at Elsie, and then to the dreaded flora set before him. Perhaps, if he had been less human, he would have been content to stay like that for the next hour until his companion took pity on him or had her fill of flower arranging, but he wasn’t. A slight tinge of boredom and curiosity pricked at his mind and he found himself prodding the foliage doubtfully.

A knowing grin from Elsie made him hurriedly retreat and revert to giving the table a hard stare. He wasn’t about to prove her right. He continued to glare at it hatefully for a few more minutes before his curiosity finally got the better of him. He poked the icy blooms dubiously, as if expecting them to leap up and bite him.

He nudged a slim purple hyacinth with the end of his nail, nudging it onto its side so he could get a clear view of the petal arrangement of the bloom. His lip curled in contempt. He jabbed at a star-shaped paperwhite in the same manner before picking it up by the stem and letting it droop over his fingers.

‘ _What fascination do flowers hold over humans? They are only fancy plants after all... Such bright, colourful plants too. They have no place in winter,_ ’ Jack thought with yet more contempt.

“Are you going to prod those flowers ‘til they wilt or are you actually going to arrange them?”

Elsie received, yet another, glare.

“I think I’ll watch them die first,” Jack replied frostily.

“Fine. You can watch them die for the next hour then, because I’m not leaving until then.”

“You can be so... so _stubborn_ sometimes!”

“Then we’re a good match,” the young artist replied smoothly. She was in the process of setting the purple hyacinths between a few evergreen leaves. “Because you’re as stubborn as I am and you won’t leave until I do just to prove your point that you’re finding this boring.”

“I... No, I...”

She looked up from her flowers to smirk at the man. “That _was_ what you were going to do. Don’t deny it.”

Jack growled and leant back in his chair.

Two familiar faces tottered over to the young couple, each wearing identical grins.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the couple Haru brought along to the carol singing,” said Kazuko Yui, the elder of the two sisters. “Well, when we invited you, Elsie, we didn’t expect a plus one.”

“But it is lovely to see more young faces,” Kumiko smoothly interjected.

“Especially a young man. Not many will come along to a class like this.”

“I was tricked,” grumbled Jack.

“You were stupid enough to agree before checking what class it was,” Elsie corrected lightly. “Sorry, he’s in a foul mood. Apparently, flowers are not his thing,” she told the sisters, grinning.

“I am _not_ in a foul mood!”

“See?”

Fuming, Jack picked up the drooping paperwhite and stuffed it in the speckled vase. “There. I’ve done something. Now can we go back?”

“You’re not enjoying it.”

Still fuming, Jack forced the same wolf-like grin to distort his features. “I’m having the time of my life; I had never lived before I discovered the joys of flower arranging.” He dropped the smiling facade and returned to his scowl. “ _Now_ can we go back?”

“He’s a charming one, this one isn’t he?” Kazuko asked Elspeth, grinning a rather toothy smile. “Whatever do you see in him?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

Jack was still fuming when the elderly ladies left the two to their rather unproductive flower arranging.

“Oh, relax, Jack. They were just teasing,” sighed the artist. “They wouldn’t have said those things if you had lightened up.”

“How long until we go?”

“Half an hour. Do you think you can carry on glaring at the flowers for that long?”

“I’m going to try.”

He didn’t make it. After ten minutes – when he had become bored of counting the spots on the vase he was meant to be placing flowers in – he began to fiddle with the foliage again. He didn’t mind the sage, nor the evergreen leaves; he had respect for the evergreens that could withstand his winter, but he still showed little concern with the blooms.

He had seen flowers before – at the end of the winter, the snowdrops would cautiously emerge, later followed by the rushed arrival of the daffodils, but, within his winter spirit, he had never shown the slightest interest in them. They were part of spring’s parade and only marked the end of his season. Their bright colours had almost seemed to mock him; the snowdrops with their winter name and snowy colour were invading his season and bringing it to a finish.

He only had twenty more minutes to endure. And then he would be free to leave. Unfortunately, twenty minutes seemed like a long time to spend doing nothing, even if he started resorting to boredom-busting techniques like counting the number of blue things in the room (which he had decided against when considering the majority were flowers) or counting snowflakes (which, he had heard, was a similar technique to the human ‘counting sheep’ equivalent).

His fingers twitched around the paperwhite drooping sadly in the vase. It looked depressed, sitting there by its lonesome.

Jack blinked. Did he just personify a flower?

‘ _Stupid... **human** brain_ ,’ he mentally grumbled. ‘ _Always so irrational_.’

Still, his fingers twitched again and this time picked up the head of the bloom, attempting to make it appear slightly less sad. A smile rose, unbidden, to his lips when the flower kept its head upright this time. All the same, it remained lonely by itself. Jack put a couple of evergreen leaves in – not because he was interested or concerned or anything, he quickly rationalised. Just to make Elspeth happy that he had tried it. The results looked less than pretty but at least it was an attempt.

Jack gave the bloom another death glare for making him indulge in the floral arrangement class. He was violently wishing for his magic back so he could freeze it to death and quicken the dying process.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Elspeth was leaning over Jack’s shoulder to see his rather sorry-looking attempt. “Perhaps it could do with a little more work but...” On seeing Jack’s expression, that ‘perhaps’ was never finished. “But it’s very good,” she said perkily. “Wholly original.”

Jack glanced at his arrangement, consisting of the paperwhite sitting surrounded by a following of evergreen leaves, and then glanced to Elsie’s work. There was no competition.

“Thanks for coming along, actually,” Elsie said suddenly. “You know, there aren’t many guys who’d put up with a flower class just for a girl’s sake. That means a lot to me.”

The earlier response Jack had been preparing – which was something along the lines of, “In all my winters, I have never experienced this type of boredom” – died on his lips. Instead, a smile made its way uneasily onto his features; a little forced, like the wolf-grin, but strangely more natural than his previous attempts.

“I’m glad it does. You’re important to me.”

Elsie’s light features gave a gentle blush, which strangely made her more beautiful, Jack noted.

“But, please, _never_ trick me into a flower arranging class ever again.”

She grinned. “I’ll try not to.”


	20. Tuesday 20th December 2011

_Sleighbells ringing; are you listenin'_

_In the lane, snow is glistenin'_

_A beautiful sight; we’re happy tonight,_

_Walkin' in a winter wonderland_

_x_

**Tuesday 20 th December 2011: Happy Tonight**

“A flower arranging class?” Haru repeated incredulously. Leaning back against the cooker, she looked at the pair in front of her with newfound respect for Elsie. “I’m sorry, but you dragged Jack to a _flower arranging class_?”

Elsie grinned wickedly. “Guilty as charged. It was worth it though, just to see his expression.”

“I told you, I don’t do flowers,” Jack growled from the sofa. Elspeth leant against him, her smile switching from wicked to innocent in a matter of seconds.

“You loved it really.”

“I put up with it for you.”

Shaking her head, Haru looked to her side to see Baron still concentrating on his tea batch. Sometimes she forgot that she was the youngest out of the four; Elspeth being in her mid-twenties, Jack being as old as winter (however _old_ that was) and Baron... well, she hadn’t quite got around to asking his age. But it was certainly older than her eighteen years.

It was approaching midday and the blizzard outside showed no signs of stopping – it hadn’t done since it had first started and now it was certainly making life difficult. Not quite enough to completely break down the public services, but enough to make it look unlikely that Elsie’s flight was going to be departing today.

It didn’t look like it was going to lessen either.

“How’s the tea going, Baron?” Haru inquired. She peered over his shoulder to see the ginger go into the blend. She resisted making a face. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No.” He turned his head to grin at the brunette. “I’m making it up as I go along.”

“Like you usually do.”

“Yes, like I usually do. And it _usually_ works.”

“Meh.”

“You’re still human, right?”

“Only just.”

“You’re never going to let that one go, are you?”

“It was a very close shave!”

Sighing and rolling his eyes – but still in good spirits – Baron picked up the tray holding four cups of tea, headed over to the lounge half of the room, and set it down on the low coffee table.

“What’s that?” Jack leant forward and peered dubiously into the cup.

“Tea. Specifically, gingerbread tea.”

Elsie had already picked up her mug. “Gingerbread tea?” she echoed. “Where did you get that from?”

“It’s my own special blend of tea. It’s a little bit different each time, so I can’t guarantee the flavour.”

Haru mouthing the same words behind him suggested this was a well-used phrase.

“And, Haru; don’t mock me. I know you’re imitating me.”

Haru closed her mouth with a grin. “Yes, sir.”

Elsie was stirring at her drink; Jack to her side was in the process of minutely examining his. “What exactly is in this?” he asked slowly.

“Mostly green tea, and a little bit of cinnamon, clover, nutmeg and ginger.”

“It’s my fault he’s experimenting today,” Haru admitted shamelessly from the side. She picked up the two remaining mugs and passed one to Baron. “I asked whether he had a special Christmas blend and got him thinking. It turns out he hasn’t got a festive blend, so he’s adamant on making one now.”

“It’s untested, so...”

“So we’re the guinea-pigs,” Haru finished happily.

“I was going to put it in more refined terms, but, yes; I suppose that covers the basics,” Baron added after Haru. “It may be a little rough around the edges, but hopefully I’ll be able to smooth them out over the course of the month.”

The other three watched each other, waiting for someone else to take the first sip. Haru, shrugging like she was used to this, was the first, then followed after by Elspeth, and Jack quickly brought up the rear.

There was a pause. Haru had gently sipped at the tea – she had tasted enough of Baron’s first trials to be wary – while Elsie had taken a small mouthful – enough to be polite, but slightly wary after seeing Haru’s sip. Jack had quickly followed after Elspeth, but had taken a rather large gulp.

He looked like he was beginning to regret it.

All three faces tightened as the taste passed down their throats; Haru was the first to recover and she was still blinking for several seconds after.

“Is something wrong?”

Haru quickly put the mug down on the tray and was still blinking. She coughed. “Let’s just say it wasn’t one of your best first trials.”

“Ah.” Baron sniffed cautiously at the mug in his own hand and his expression cleared. “A little bit too much ginger?” he offered sheepishly.

Elspeth had finished her mouthful, but her eyes were still watering. “Yes, just a bit.”

“I will work on that next time.” He cleared away the cups, peeling away Jack’s mug which the ex-spirit hadn’t yet put back on the tray, and started to pour the ruined batch down the drain.

Jack eventually regained the use of his vocal chords. “Find some new guinea-pigs,” he said hoarsely. “I quit.”

Haru had fetched the remaining lebkuchen from the fridge and set a loaded tray on the table. This was quickly accompanied by a jug of water and several glasses, which were hastily taken and drunk.

“Was the taste really that abysmal?” Baron queried; not upset, merely curious.

Elsie finished her water and smiled sympathetically to him. “Let’s just say that I hope your more practised blends are much improved otherwise I won’t be offering to test your tea again in a hurry.”

Jack didn’t need to add his own thoughts to the mix; the glare he was giving was quite enough.

“I would offer to make a less-experimental blend to take away the taste, but somehow I receive the impression that you would be unwilling to risk it,” Baron said honestly.

Jack was still glaring. He looked as if he thoroughly believed Baron had just tried to poison him.

“Sadly I haven’t got time to try another one of your blends, even if I was game for it,” Elsie announced. She got to her feet, swinging her tailored jacket round her shoulders in the same motion. “I need to get going if I want to get everything in the car and at least check that my flight is cancelled.

Jack rose to his feet bare seconds following Elspeth. “Your flight will not be departing in this weather. It looks close to a blizzard out there.”

“Nonetheless,” Elsie continued smoothly, unaffected by Jack’s words, “I should at least check. If I miss it and end up spending Christmas away from family when I could have been in Scotland, I would kick myself.” She grinned at the ex-spirit. “Cheer up, Jack. You’re right, of course; there’s no way my plane would take off in this weather, but when my family phones to ask about it, I’ll be able to truthfully say that I went to the airport and heard first-hand that it had been cancelled. So stop pouting – yes, you are pouting; that is very definitely a pout, don’t look at me like that – and I’ll see you tomorrow. For goodness sake, try to smile at least.”

A grudging lift of the lips followed Elsie’s outburst. “Happy?”

“Very.” The young artist brought Jack into an impulsive hug that lasted for several seconds before she decided to end it. She dragged Haru and Baron into a hug after that one before picking up her belongings and heading out.

“ _Smile_ , guys,” Elsie repeated, exasperated this time in tone. “The world’s not about to end any time soon.”

Jack watched Elsie leave and then started to make his own way out.

“And where do you think you’re heading to?”

The once-spirit turned his gaze to the other two occupants of the room. “Back to the Refuge. I think I need some time alone.”

Haru started forward, but Baron caught her gently by the arm.

“Alright,” Baron said. “Don’t hesitate to come back if you need someone to talk to.”

Jack nodded thankfully to them, and disappeared out into the white blizzard. Now Baron released his light hold on the brunette. Haru took back her arm and glared balefully at her companion. “What was that for? I just thought that he might be better if he wasn’t left to stew in his own thoughts.”

“I think he does just need some time by himself.”

“He’ll get depressed,” Haru warned bluntly. “You know he will. He’ll start thinking that Elsie left because she doesn’t really care for him, and then start thinking that this was all in vain and then it’ll spiral into misery as he keeps on repeating that belief...”

“Perhaps you’re not giving him enough credit. He has become much more stable since he first became human.”

“Well, _that_ relieves me. But if he gets depressed it’s your fault.”

Baron grinned at the girl. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He started to clear up the water jug and its rather scattered collection of glasses, tipping the remaining water into a plant as he passed it. Haru joined him and picked up the plate of biscuits, returning the outstanding lebkuchen to the rest in the fridge, and started to fill the washing-up bowl with warm water and washing-up liquid.

“Do you think he’ll be alright? Really, I mean.” Haru dumped the now-empty plate into the fast-filling bowl as she spoke. “What if this doesn’t work out? What if she does go back to Scotland and moves on with her life? How will Jack cope with that?”

“He would recover, but somehow I doubt he’ll have to. Firstly, the weather is so bad it would take a miracle for Elspeth’s flight to be departing today, and secondly, because they care for each other.” Baron picked up a drying towel and started drying the leftover dishes from breakfast. He snuck a grin at his companion. “And I suppose I have come to the conclusion that love can overcome any boundaries.”

Haru grinned back, but Baron didn’t fail to spot the blush that crept into her cheeks nonetheless.

“We’ll be alright, won’t we, Baron?” Haru asked suddenly, but with complete, trusting conviction. “Whatever happens, even after Christmas – after you turn back to a figurine – we’ll find a way through it, won’t we?”

The once-Creation paused at his task; the tea towel drew to a stop in his hands and the plate started to drip water onto the tiled floor. “Yes,” he said after a moment. He smiled confidently at Haru, and continued, with absolute belief. “Yes, we will. I’m sure there is a spell which can temporarily alter sizes... perhaps I could even find one to change species.”

“I love you both ways. Half-cat or human.”

“Thank you. Although it might be a little easier to be out in public if I were human.”

“And I guess my mother would freak out less if you weren’t half-cat, too.”

“That also.” Baron started up again on the drying front and moved round Haru to put the plate away in its respective cupboard.

Ever since the kiss the day before, they had become more comfortable around one another. It had been like their hidden feelings had made the air tight before; the inability to admit their feelings had stifled the atmosphere between them and, in confessing it, their relationship had become more open. More easy. Quite what the relationship was, they hadn’t voiced it yet. Neither had vocalised the term ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ for fear of breaking what they had.

But even Jack had noticed the change between them. When he had breached the subject with a rather meaningful look, the pair had looked at one another, smiled, and then tactfully moved the conversation on.

“Hey, Chicky; any biscuits left for a starving moggy?”

“There are biscuits left, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we’ve done the washing up, Muta,” Haru answered calmly as the rather podgy feline made his way into the kitchen. She hadn’t seen him for much of today, but she received the impression he had been sleeping the majority of the day. “Where’s your nemesis?”

“You mean the birdbrain? Dunno.”

“He’s at the Bureau,” Baron supplied.

“You left him there to spy on Jack?” Haru demanded.

“Actually, he’s there in case any clients turn up.”

“Boy, are those clients going to get a shock,” snorted Muta. “All they’re going to find is one miffed ex-spirit and one stone birdie.”

“We can only hope that there will be no clients _to_ get a shock,” Baron put in coolly. He gave Haru an innocent expression. “Really, Haru; I did not leave Toto at the Bureau to ‘spy’ on Jack. He’s merely there so that at least one member of the Bureau is available. And if he can keep an eye on Jack, that’s a double bonus,” he added, grinning wickedly at Haru’s expression.

Haru rolled her eyes and started washing up the mugs which had previously contained Baron’s failed Christmas tea. She was careful to wash them out very thoroughly. “What do people want for lunch, by the way? That question was not directed at you, Muta.”

The fat cat visibly bristled. “I’m a person too! I need my daily sustenance!”

“Muta, you’re overreacting.”

“Are not.”

“Are too– Oh, don’t let’s start _that_ up again. Baron, what do you want for lunch?”

“What is available?”

Haru shrugged, just finishing with the last of the mugs, and looked round the closed cupboards. “Well, from this point, I can’t really tell, but I guess there’s some soup... Would you be up for that?”

“Soup on a cold December day... I can’t imagine anything more perfect.”

Haru grinned back. “Soup it is then.” She glanced back to the fuming form of Muta and smiled sweetly. “And some lebkuchen for pudding, if you want.”


	21. Wednesday 21st December 2011

_Now is the solstice of the year,_

_Winter is the glad song that you hear._

_Seven maids move in seven time._

_Have the lads up ready in a line._

_Ring out these bells._

_Ring out, ring solstice bells._

_Ring solstice bells._

_x_

**Wednesday 21 st December 2011: Solstice**

“Do you know what day it is?”

Haru didn’t look up from the chessboard. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.” She grimaced at the board and hesitantly fiddled with the top of the bishop.

Jack didn’t appear particularly fussed by Haru’s – or anyone else’s, for that matter – inattention.

“It’s the winter solstice today. The shortest day of the year.”

“Lovely.” Haru decided on forgoing the bishop and moving the rook instead. Her opponent winced and spared her a wicked smile.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

Haru pouted but moved her rook back. “You’re not meant to give your opponent advice,” she grumbled. “That’s cheating.”

“Cheating?” Baron repeated doubtfully, still smiling widely.

“Well, it’s certainly unorthodox.”

“From today until the summer solstice, the days will be getting longer.”

“Lovely,” Haru repeated in the same tone to Jack’s contemplative thoughts. Biting her lip, she toyed with the idea of moving her knight instead, but was unwilling to risk one of her favourite pieces. “I don’t like being given advice in a chess game,” she muttered furiously, spinning the piece idly round on the spot. She hadn’t really realised she was doing it. “It muddles me up.”

“I’m just preventing you from being defeated immediately.”

Haru glared. “And that’s not patronising in the least,” she said sarcastically.

“What would I know?” Baron’s eyes sparkled as he teased the brunette. “I’m just a wooden figurine.”

“Uh-huh. One that has spent too many hours perfecting his chess ability, evidently.”

“With a lifetime like mine, I have had plenty of time to perfect my chess strategies. It’s still your turn,” he reminded her.

“Darn. And I was hoping you had forgotten.” She was only partially joking.

“Take your turn, please.”

Haru made a face and moved her knight over the opponent’s pawn and to the side.

“Is that your turn?”

“Don’t sound so smug. _Yes_ , that is my turn.”

“Are you sure?”

Haru glowered. “Stop telling me how to play the game.”

“Right.” The knight was immediately taken and the bishop moved to check the king. “Do you want to take back that move now?” He was idly juggling the small white knight between his fingers, taking a closer inspection at the piece that consisted of a horse’s head in white plastic masquerading as marble.

Haru looked rather miffed at the general situation, but didn’t back down. “Nope,” she replied stubbornly. “I can manage this.”

“This should be interesting.”

“Could you stop sounding so patronising?”

“I think you’re being a little too sensitive.”

Haru opened her mouth to send back another reply – she didn’t know about Baron, but she was enjoying the mock-argument – but at that precise moment a phone went off. She groaned and got to her feet. “I’ll answer that.” She turned and gave Baron a look. “And I’ll know if you’ve changed anything around.”

“Why would I need to?”

Haru huffed but picked up the phone. “Hi, Haru Yoshioka speaking. If you want to speak to Naoko Yoshioka, I’m afraid you’ll have to try another time. If you just want to pass on a message, I could take it and give it to her when she gets back...” She trailed off as the person at the other end of the line replied with something. A grin split across the brunette’s face. “Elsie? Is that you?”

“Elsie?” Jack had made it across the room in a matter of strides and had swept the phone out of Haru’s grasp with little difficultly. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

Haru stole the phone back off Jack before he could gain a reply. “I think we all want to talk to Elsie. I’ll put it on loudspeaker.” She pressed a button and placed the phone on the kitchen table. “Hiya, Elsie. How are things going?”

“Where are you?” Jack demanded instantly. “Did the flight go?”

There was some familiar laughter emitted from the phone. “ _No, it was cancelled just like you said it would be. But the snow got so bad last night that the taxi never came to pick me up so I had to spend the night in a two-star motel_.”

“But where are you now?” he insisted.

“ _With my aunt and uncle. The taxi arrived this morning and took me back. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get home until after this snowstorm has blown itself out, which might be after Christmas. Anyway, I would have contacted you earlier, but my mobile had no signal – certainly not in this weather – so I had to wait until I got to a landline phone to tell you what had happened_.”

“Jack’s missed you!” Haru called down the line. She earned a glare, but she didn’t really care.

Elsie laughed. “ _Tell him I missed him too!_ ”

Jack didn’t lighten his glare, but he did look a little happier.

“ _Anyway, since it appears I’ll be staying for a little longer than originally intended, what have people got planned for the next few days?_ ”

“Say we do,” Jack abruptly whispered. He looked almost panicked. “Otherwise she’ll drag me to another flower arranging class!”

“ _What’s Jack saying?_ ”

“Um, he’s just expressed a sudden desire to look round the local museum,” Haru lied. Jack gave her a look. “What?” she whispered back. “Nothing else came to mind!”

“A museum?” he repeated disbelievingly.

“ _A museum?_ ” Elsie asked, unknowingly echoing Jack. “ _He wants to go to a museum?_ ”

“Uh-huh. The museum.” Haru grinned at the irate ex-spirit. She supposed she should count her lucky stars that he didn’t have his magic still to hand. As nice as being a snowflake might be, she infinitely preferred remaining human.

“ _Alright, if he wants to go to a museum, then I’m game_.”

“Good. Do you want to meet up here then? Say, elevenish?”

“ _Fine. I’ll see you then._ ” There was an audible click and Elsie ended the call. Haru turned to put the phone back in its cradle to see that Jack was still giving her daggers. To the side of Jack, Baron was standing with his finger and thumb rubbing the bridge of his nose. She could see that he was desperately trying not to see the humour in the situation.

If the smile hidden just below his hand was any indication, he was failing.

“Of all the excuses you could have given... why the _museum_?” Jack demanded loudly, now sure that Elspeth wouldn’t pick up their little bout of deceit.

“It was the only thing I could think of.”

“Next time, think harder!”

“Next time, answer her yourself, coward.”

Baron’s hand had slipped down to the side of his face and now he was in the pretence of biting his nails. The smile was still there and threatening to grow, revealing the fake nail-biting to be a futile ploy to prevent the smile from spreading any further.

“Baron, what do you think about all this?” Jack demanded.

Baron coughed and regained control. “What’s the harm of going to a museum?” he answered weakly, making a small attempt at shrugging his shoulders. “Who knows; you might even enjoy it.”

“Elsie said the same about the flower arranging class.”

Haru grinned a little guiltily. “I still think that’s pretty funny.”

“It isn’t.”

“Just imagine: Jack Frost – harsh and cold spirit of winter; nipper of noses; maker of the frost itself and that other stuff that apparently you do – rearranging a flower pot.” Haru giggled. “It _is_ a little ridiculous.”

“It’s embarrassing, that’s what it is. I’m going to get laughed out of the spirit realm,” Jack groaned. “I’ll never be taken seriously again.”

“Don’t worry; being taken seriously is overrated anyway.”

“That was not the reassurance I needed.”

“Anytime,” chimed Haru happily. She turned on her heel and returned to the chess game still sitting unfinished on the low coffee table. “Hey, Baron; do you want to finish this?”

“I see no reason why not. The game is nearly finished anyway.”

“It’s not over until my king is checkmated.”

Baron smiled and sat down on the carpet. “If you say so.”

Haru sat down on the carpet, opposite Baron but not bothering to sit on the sofa behind her. Jack wasn’t so fussed and took the available room on the settee, as such sitting behind Haru’s right shoulder.

Jack leant over her shoulder to see the board. “Do you need any help?” he offered grouchily.

“No.”

The once-spirit skimmed his gaze over the game. “You’re in check.”

“I know.”

“You should move your–”

Haru turned on the spot to glare at Jack. “Who’s playing this game?” she demanded.

Feeling that he was getting his own back on the brunette, a thin smile crossed his face. “Well, you currently, but since you’re doing such a poor job of it, it may be a small mercy if I take over.”

“I should have said you’d asked to go to the flower arranging class again,” Haru muttered threateningly. She moved forward to bring forward her rook. This was accompanied by winces from both the males.

“Would you stop doing that?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take that move back?” Baron offered.

“She’s already taken her hand off the piece; she can’t change it now.”

“That’s a stupid rule,” Haru grumbled.

“Well then, I’m sorry, Haru.” The rook was passed by a bishop and Haru’s queen was neatly taken out. “You’ve just lost your queen.”

“Careful you don’t lose yours,” Haru replied back, smirking.

Baron leant on the coffee table. “Is that a threat?”

Haru leant forward to grin evilly at her companion. “It’s a promise.”

Jack leant back into the sofa with a groan. “Please tell me I’m not that soppy when I’m with Elsie,” he pleaded. “I don’t think I could take anymore humiliation.”

“Well, you _are_ pretty besotted. Now, Baron; I think it’s time you lost your queen. And since you’ve so conveniently moved your bishop out of the way...” She started to slide her own bishop across the board.

“Hm, but to do that you would have to expose your king to check.” Baron retrieved the piece and set it back to its original spot. “So it would appear I keep my queen.”

Haru glowered at the board. “Darn.”

“So, what are you going to do instead? Would you like to forfeit now?”

“And give in without a fight? Never!”

If Jack had been more familiar with anime, he may have likened his feelings to a sweatdrop. As things stood though, he just had to make do with a faint tinge of red covering his usually pale features. “You two are so embarrassing,” he groaned.

The pair grinned at him. “We know.”

“I think I’ll just make myself some tea.” He peered doubtfully into the cleaned teapot, still remembering the rather unforgettable taste of Baron’s previously unsuccessful blend. “On second thoughts, I think I might see if there’s anything else.”

“It’s fine.”

“Haru, I’m still waiting for you to take your turn.”

The brunette glared at the unfavourable board. “Shoot, I really want to take your queen...”

“I’m afraid that under current circumstances, that is unable to happen.”

“Then I’ll just have to change the circumstances, won’t I?”

Jack – who had his whole head in the fridge in the process of reaching for the milk situated right at the back – accidentally knocked off a yogurt from one of the shelves, where it hit the floor with a thud and rolled under the kitchen table. Grumbling, Jack retrieved the wayward pot and set it back in the fridge.

Baron turned his gaze back to the board – he had instinctively snapped his head round at the noise – and paused for a few moments before frowning.

“Haru, put the queen back.”

Haru, who quite clearly was keeping something behind her back, shrugged innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“And I suppose the queen just became tired of waiting for you to take your turn and wandered off then.”

Haru looked at the board, and then grinned. “Yep.”

“Really? And where would the queen be, do you think? Not behind your back, of course.”

“No, of course not.”

Baron got to his feet and leaned towards Haru. “Well then, why don’t you show me what you’ve got in your hands?”

Haru got to her feet also, keeping her hands firmly behind her back. “Shan’t.”

“Please, Haru.”

“Nope.” Haru edged away from the table, easing her way out from between the sofa and the aforementioned table. Baron followed her, but he was also grinning now.

“Come, come, Haru; you really are being most childish.”

The brunette just stuck her tongue out and proceeded to edge away, now following the back of the sofa and edging round to the front again. Baron continued round and this slow procession continued for a lap and a half round the same sofa.

Eventually Baron broke into a semi-run (as much of a run as can be obtained round a sofa) and chased Haru round the sofa and then widening the loop round the table too; Haru ran too, but stopped at the end of the sofa. Baron stopped at the other end and they waited for the other to make the first move – to indicate which way they were about to go. Eventually Haru made a break for the left but backed up and skidded to the window side of the room when Baron quickly caught up. She ended up laughing with her back against the large curtained windows, with Baron blocking off her escape.

“So you’ve won your queen,” she laughed. “Now what?”

“Checkmate.”

He kissed the brunette, and had the kiss returned in full.

Jack gave the pair another disgruntled look.

“Forget this. I’m going back to the Bureau.”


	22. Thursday 22nd December 2011

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas_

_With every Christmas card I write_

_May your days be merry and bright,_

_And may all your Christmases be white_

_x_

**Thursday 22 nd December 2011: Merry and Bright**

“I can’t believe you actually hauled me here.”

Jack glared up at the old-style Greek-columned front with obvious distaste, even as the snow around him began to settle on his shoulders. The cold did nothing to lessen his glare.

“I thought this was your idea?” Elsie inquired politely.

“ _They_ dragged me into it,” he replied, jerking a thumb at the pair to his other side. Haru and Baron smiled innocently.

“We thought some culture would do him some good,” Haru explained with a smirk.

“I don’t need culturing,” Jack insisted. “In fact, I’m quite happy to stay out here until you’re finished.”

“Oh, come on, you whiner.”

To Baron and Haru’s amusement, the young artist dragged Jack inside before he could complain any further. The pair followed their companions with conspicuously less drama.

“So what kind of museum is this, exactly?” Baron asked curiously. “You were so busy persuading Jack – if dragging him by the arm can count as persuading – that you never got as far as telling us.”

“A natural history one. You’ll see when you get inside.”

They came to where Jack and Elsie had stopped, which was just inside the building, and listened for a moment to Jack’s continued complaints before discarding their attention and turning instead to the exhibits. In pride of place near the front was a stuffed leopard – raised in a zoo, died of natural causes, allowed to be touched, according to the sign nailed to the platform.

Baron wandered over to it. He looked vaguely ill.

Haru followed him and spotted the change in colour. “You okay?”

Jack arrived to their side. “How would you feel if it were a stuffed human?” he asked blandly.

“Oh.” Haru took another look at him. “On second thoughts, would you like to leave, Baron?”

The ex-Creation shook his head and Haru was pleased to see a little of his normal colour was returning. “I’m fine. I just was not expecting to come face-to-face with something like that.”

As if feeding off Baron’s discomfort, Jack leant forward and peered at the unseeing eyes of the creature. “What are the eyes? Marbles?”

“Probably.” Haru raised a hand to Baron’s shoulder. “Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

Jack was leaning down now to meet the stuffed feline eye-to-eye. “Humans are weird,” he noted after a moment.

“Did the cat tell you that?” Elsie joined them and yanked Jack back to his feet. “And would you stop that? It’s evidently making Baron feel uneasy.” She hadn’t heard the previous discussion, but she couldn’t mistake the slightly nauseous shade of Baron’s face.

“There’s the dinosaur section over there,” Haru offered, pointing to the left of them where several distinct skulls could be seen peering over the information boards. “You might prefer that bit. Everything’s a little more...”

“Dead?” Jack offered flatly.

“Yeah.”

“Perhaps that would be for the best,” Baron concluded. He spared one last look to the deceased feline and hurriedly looked away again, quickly heading off in the direction of the dinosaur skeletons with the rest of the small group.

Haru took his hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked softly. “Everyone would completely understand if you’d like to head out.”

Baron shook his head and immediately looked as if he regretted the action; his face turning a little greener. Apart from that, he almost looked back to normal. “I hadn’t quite realised that humans still stuffed animals nowadays,” he replied quietly. “I understand it; the fascination to get close to something unusual, but when you first said a natural history museum just then...”

“You didn’t think that would be part and package of it?”

“That is more or less the extent of it, yes.” Baron looked up at the intimidating skeletons they were approaching and spared a smile for Haru, abruptly moving the conversation into lighter waters. “What was that about you being ‘dino mad’ back at the toyshop?”

Haru groaned. “I can’t believe you actually remember that. Come on; let’s catch up with Jack and Elsie before Jack has decided to make a run for it.” She headed over to where the other couple were standing by an exhibit of a small feathered bird – well, that was what Haru assumed it was; it was a little difficult to tell with only the skeleton to go on. Jack was paying particular attention to the artist’s impression of several various dinosaurs situated beside it, absorbed as he rated the accuracy.

“Wrong.... Wrong.... Completely off; you’ve got to wonder what the guy was on when he drew _that_... Wrong again... Right...”

Elsie laughed. “You speak as if you’ve seen the dinosaurs in action, Jack.”

“Hm, I have,” Jack mumbled absent-mindedly. “You humans like to think you know so much, but you should really know the amount of facts you have wrong about these creatures...” He stopped to look at a small diagram of one of the creatures and started laughing.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have been so worried about Jack making a break for it,” Haru noted to Baron. “Perhaps we should be more worried about the changes he might start trying to make to the exhibits...”

“He’s enjoying himself at least.”

Jack looked up from the drawings. “What?”

Haru smirked. “Baron just said that at least you’re enjoying yourself. But I suppose he’s just getting entirely the wrong impression, is that so?”

Jack glowered and quickly took a few steps back from the display. “Of course he’s just wrong. I’m just... appalled at the horrendous mistakes these so-called dinosaur experts have made.”

“At least they’re making an effort. Which is a lot more than I can say for you.”

Jack’s glower didn’t lift. He hated being proved wrong. “I’m beginning to believe you just agreed to all this just to get a kick out of embarrassing me.”

“No, we didn’t.” Haru grinned wickedly. “But we’re finding it immensely enjoyable all the same.”

ooOoo

“Are we nearly finished yet?”

“You’re sounding like a little boy,” Elsie noted. “Didn’t you enjoy the last hour _at all_?”

Jack paused and thought it over. “No,” he said. “Although,” he added after a moment, “the section on the ice age brought back good memories...”

Behind them, Haru rolled her eyes. “Eternal winter; what else should we have expected?”

“See?” Elsie demanded, failing to pick up Haru’s comment. “You did enjoy it.”

“I said it brought back good memories, not that I enjoyed it.”

“Okay then; what _do_ you like doing in your spare time, since you seem to abhor any pastime the rest of us drags you to?”

Jack paused and considered the question. Several awkward seconds ticked by.

“You do have hobbies, right?” the artist asked faintly.

“Y…es,” Jack replied slowly.

‘ _Just not your average human ones_ ,’ Haru thought to herself. Verbally, she put in, “You enjoyed the ice skating, didn’t you? And you didn’t complain too much about the carol singing either.”

“Yes,” Jack repeated, this time with slightly more confidence. He turned to Elsie. “See? I do have hobbies.”

“Oh good; I was starting to think I had picked a guy with no sense of fun.”

“I have a sense of fun!” he retorted, indigent.

“Prove it then.”

“What; you want me to start karaoke-ingfrom the top of the dinosaur displays or something?”

“I didn’t mean anything quite that drastic…”

They came to a stop near the exit, which was situated beside the children’s entertainment section. A few displays and interactive activities were dotted around the area, broken up by the occasional stall manned by a volunteer. The museum was pretty empty due to the abysmal conditions outside making it nearly impossible to walk into town – no one was driving since the morning had brought a slick sheet of ice covering the snow, entirely hid by the foot and a half of snow lining the streets. Their progress to the museum had been pretty interesting.

“Well then, I’m afraid we’ll just have to let the topic of my humour drop and head back. Unless you’d like to get snowed in here.”

Haru and Baron exchanged glances as the debate continued for several minutes longer; Haru had expected that they would burn out after one minute, but apparently they had the potential and stubbornness to prolong it. Haru began to fiddle with the camera Hiromi had lent her, flicking through a few of the pictures she had taken today. There were a few older ones; including the one Hiromi had taken last Saturday during their time decorating the tree. She was a little surprised to see a few from the carolling, quite a few of which were of her and Baron’s duet.

In the background, Elsie and Jack hadn’t got any further.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Good! Then you can prove it and indulge in a little face-painting!” Elsie abruptly announced. She started to drag the nonplussed Jack over to one of the children’s tables before he could compute her words.

“Wait…”

Jack was shoved into the seat opposite a teen girl who couldn’t have been that far off Haru’s age. The girl looked up. “Do you want your face painted, sir?” she asked politely.

“No–”

“Yes,” Elspeth interrupted. She matched the glare she was receiving from the ex-winter spirit. “It’ll just be a little bit of fun,” she wheedled imploringly.

“Will you stop trying to embarrass me if I endure this humiliation?”

She grinned wanly. “Maybe.”

“What kind of an answer is that?”

“An honest one. Now, sit.” Elsie caught his shoulders as he attempted to get back to his feet, and forced him to take the chair again. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise that I’ll have my face painted too. And I’ll let you choose the design for me.”

Jack eyed Elsie warily. “Promise?”

“Promise. And I never go back on my word.”

Jack sighed and visibly deflated. “Okay,” he agreed. He sunk back into the chair but wasn’t above sending daggers at the girl with the paints. “Just remember that I was blackmailed into this.”

The girl didn’t seem particularly bothered by the group’s antics; perhaps she had seen several people – specifically, not children – forcing their friends to partake in a face-painting. “What design would you like? I have a booklet here of some popular designs…”

Jack reached for it, but Elsie had snatched it off before he could get hold of it. “ _We_ decide,” she said. “After all, you get to choose my design. Now, shush. We’re deciding what level of humiliation you should go through.”

Jack growled his displeasure, but didn’t attempt to run. He just watched Elsie in a surly manner as she flicked through the booklet, Haru and Baron leaning over her shoulder and pointing out a few as they went.

“I like that one…”

“What, the cute dog one?” Elsie looked at Jack critically, measuring up the image implanted on his face. “Nope; not right.”

Jack had to repress a sigh of relief. ‘The cute dog one’ hadn’t set his heart at ease.

“Some of these don’t make sense. What is that one?”

“Don’t you recognise Spiderman? He’s a classic comic-book superhero.”

Baron shrugged. “I have not kept up with that type of culture.”

“I liked the tiger one several pages back…” mused Haru. She flicked a few pages back.

Jack snorted from his prison of a chair. “You would,” he muttered.

“Oi, I heard that. For that, I’m going to make sure we pick a particularly girly one.”

“Like you weren’t already planning on doing that.”

Haru grinned guiltily. “I suppose not.”

Elsie tapped the booklet. “What about this one?”

Haru peered over Elsie’s shoulder and a wide grin split over her face. “Perfect.” She took the booklet off Elspeth and scooted round to the painter. “Could you do this one?” she asked, pointing to the respective photo.

The girl at the table looked doubtfully at the picture and then at the glowering Jack. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The girl shrugged. “Alright.” She took the book off Haru and made to set it down on the table. Haru caught it before Jack could catch a glimpse of what he would soon look like.

“Could you make sure he doesn’t spot it? We want it to be a surprise.”

A blonde eyebrow was raised. “He’s going to certainly be surprised when he sees his reflection. Alright,” she repeated. She started to dab a paintbrush into a pot – Jack was appalled to see the colour was a garish shade of pink – and began to apply the paint to the horrified man’s face.

“How long is this going to take?”

“Please, keep still.”

“How long is this going to take?” he repeated stubbornly.

“Not long. Please, sir, keep your head still, or I might end up getting some of the paint in your eyes.”

“And then you’d end up with pink eyes,” Elsie teased from the side-lines.

Jack froze his head in place, but his eyes still followed the offensive paintbrush meticulously as it moved to and from his face. The small brush started up a merry dance, dipping in the paint pot, then moving to Jack’s face, and then, every now and then, taking a dip in the water as the painter took up another colour. He began to go cross-eyed at the point where the paintbrush dabbed the colour on the bridge of his nose.

He fastidiously noted the colours picked, unaware of the particular design being formed upon his face, but attempting to guess anyway. Pink. Black. White. More pink. More white. Dabs of purple…

“Please could you stop glaring?”

“No.”

“I can’t paint the top of your forehead with the crease-lines in it. I’ll end up missing parts and then you’ll have crease-lines through the picture.”

“My forehead is stuck in its current form and shall remain that way until you put that infernal paintbrush away.”

“He’s a happy one, isn’t he?” the girl noted idly to Elspeth.

“You have no idea.”

The girl lifted the paintbrush – which, he was relieved to note, had the neutral colour green on the brush section – threateningly in his face. “Now, sir, I would be very thankful if you could attempt to discard that glower. One of these days the wind will change direction and your face will be stuck like that.”

“Good.”

“Come on, Jack; play fair,” Elsie coaxed. “I thought you said you had a sense of fun.”

“Covering one’s face with childish paint is not what I would deem ‘fun’.”

“Please, Jack?”

He glowered for a few moments longer and then, with a sigh, dropped the glare. He looked strangely defenceless without it and Haru had to wonder whether she had seen Jack smile properly, without the snide remarks before.

“Happy?”

“Indeed.”

“So am I,” the painter sighed. “Right, hold still; not much left to do.”

“I’m delirious,” Jack replied flatly.

“Don’t crease your forehead again.”

“Alright, alright.”

The girl stuck her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated on the finishing touches. A few more strokes and another combination of paint were added to Jack’s cheek, and finally she leant back. “Right. Done. You’re worse than the children, sir.”

Now Jack was allowed to glare, he did. “I want a mirror.”

“A please wouldn’t go amiss,” Elsie scolded.

“I want a mirror, _please_ ,” Jack repeated in the same tone.

The girl looked to the other three, as if gauging whether they would try to stop her. Haru shrugged. “Go ahead,” she said. “For all his moaning, I’m impressed he made it this far.”

Jack momentarily turned his glower to Haru before moving his gaze to the handheld mirror the painter was holding up before him. His face slowly blackened. “What do you call this?” he growled.

“I think the name the booklet gives it is Summer Fairy,” Elsie supplied, grinning at the distraught man. “It suits you.”

Jack’s eyes slowly widened and the stress lines on his brow slowly got deeper as his gaze travelled over his reflection. He took in the pink-and-purple butterfly that had been painted over the majority of the face; he took in the twirling leaves and flowers painted along the sides of his face; he took in the roses markedly adorning his brow in a ruby-red border.

“What… have you done?”

“We’ve educated you on the sense of fun.”

“My reputation… All the spirits of winter must be laughing their heads off…” he said in a horrified whisper.

“It’s just as well you’re a human then, isn’t it?” Haru called. She grinned when Jack turned his un-amused expression to her. “Don’t worry; I doubt you’ll have to face them any time soon.” ‘ _Assuming he stays human, anyway._ ’

“I want this cleaned off. I cannot go about like this. I refuse.”

“Please, Jack?” Elsie looked beseechingly at him. “Just wait until the rest of us have our faces painted too, and then you can have it washed off.”

Jack looked like he was going to turn her down immediately, but his soft spot for Elsie was also his weak point. He growled for a few moments longer and then backed down. “Alright. But not a moment longer!”

“We wouldn’t dream of it.”

Half an hour later saw the four of them covered with the face-paint. Somehow Haru and Baron had also been persuaded to join in and now Haru was having the last few strokes of her pirate design applied to her upper lip. To be precise, she was having the moustache applied – although she wasn’t fully aware of it yet.

“Nearly done?”

“Yes. Don’t talk; I almost filled your mouth with paint.”

“Uh-hm,” Haru mumbled, trying desperately not to open her mouth but still convey some consent.

“And that… should… be it!” The girl finished the twirling moustache with a flick of her paintbrush and sat back in her chair to grin at her four – some willing, others unwilling – customers. “You look a pretty crowd, I must say.”

Haru had picked up the mirror and was inspecting her reflection. She tried several pirate expressions in the glass.

“Can I go free now?” Jack pleaded. “I waited long enough; please let me clean this off.”

“Fine.”

“Hang on!” Haru called. She sprung out of the chair, quickly dumping the mirror on the side, and collected Hiromi’s camera from the side. “Not before we’ve got a photo!”

Jack groaned. “I’ve lived through quite enough humiliation to let me a lifetime; and now you want to go one step further and immortalise this moment?”

Haru considered it for a moment. Then, “Yep!”

Jack lifted his eyes to the domed roof. “I take it all back, Father Winter. Turn me back to a spirit!”

Elsie laughed, not quite picking up the reference, but getting the dramatic manner clear enough. “Come on, you drama queen. Get in the photo.” She didn’t give him a chance to excuse herself, grabbing the back of his coat and dragging him to stand beside her.

Haru passed the camera to the girl at the stand. “Could you take a picture for us?”

“Say no!”

“I don’t see why not.”

Jack groaned, but he couldn’t escape without throwing off Elsie’s grip. “Promise me you’ll let me wash this atrocity off afterwards.”

“Hey, that’s my masterpiece you’re talking about!” the girl called from behind the camera. “Come on, at least _attempt_ a smile.”

Jack did his best and there was the audible click of the camera.

“Thanks.” Haru retrieved the camera and pushed the playback button. “You actually look like you’re enjoying yourself,” she commented, surprised, to Jack. She turned it round so the rest could see the result. “Not half bad, huh?”

Jack took the camera, his usual expression falling into place, but the frown paused as he saw the photo. There, on the tiny screen, was a picture of the four of them with the dinosaur exhibits visible in the background. Elsie – with her skeleton painted face (Jack had chosen that design, and it actually suited the artist rather well) – had her arm around his waist, doing her best to make him look like part of the photo. Like Haru had said though, he actually looked vaguely happy. He didn’t know how that had happened. To his other side stood the couple of Baron and Haru, with their Spiderman and pirate designs respectively – Baron still wasn’t entirely sure of what exactly his face was meant to be, but had patiently taken Haru and Elsie at their word that it was a well-known face-painting style. Haru had been sourly tempted to get Baron painted with a tiger face, but had decided against it when she thought of all the years Baron had spent as a feline anyway.

“Hey, Jack, are you going to let the rest of us see it, or are you going to hoard it?”

Jack blinked. “Sorry. We look good there.” He passed the camera to Elsie.

The artist took it and peered at the miniature screen. She smiled up at Jack. “Yes, we do.”

“I still want to wash this off.”

“Spoilsport.”

They started to head out, but the lights flickered and, instinctively, they paused. The lights flickered again and the storm outside worsened. The lights flickered a third time and this time they failed to come back.

Haru sighed; her voice sounded strangely loud in the pitch-dark, blackout building.

“Aw, shoot.”


	23. Friday 23rd December 2011

_A time for living, a time for believing,_

_A time for trusting, not deceiving;_

_Love and laughter and joy ever after,_

_Ours for the taking, just follow the master._

_x_

**Friday 23 rd December 2011: A Time for Believing**

“So what exactly is this town hall?” With the candle flickering on the kitchen table, Baron found it hard to pick out the shapes in the lounge. The constant movement of the tiny flame sent shadows dancing across the spread of the room.

“Hm-mm.” Haru picked out the torch from between her teeth and set it on the bookshelf so she could talk and see the shoes she was shoving onto her feet. “It’s a mansion in this corner of town; some rich heir donated it to the council and it’s kind of acquired the title of the town hall for this area. It’s still got everything in working order; goodness knows the council spent enough money renovating it.”

The blackout had lasted longer than was expected and, as evening had drawn closer the next day, people had begun to become nervous. Add to that the fact that several other problems had occurred – all the landline phones had gone dead due to a fallen telegraph pole; boilers for some unfortunate individuals had decided to have their breakdown now and the roads were so blocked that no one could get through to help with any of their problems – and the local community had decided to rally together to tackle their predicament.

Which was why Ms Ran – the self-proclaimed matriarch of the community – had arrived on their doorstep an hour or so ago to inform them that the majority of the neighbourhood were heading to the town hall instead of deciding to wait alone.

“Bring some food, blankets, and anything else that would be helpful,” Ms Ran had told the attentive Naoko. “It’ll be easier to sit this out if everyone’s together, not to mention it should be a great deal warmer inside the hall if we’re there in numbers. What’s the community for, if not to band together when the going gets tough?”

Which was why the three current occupants of the Yoshioka home were collecting blankets and food in the dimly-lit darkness of the lounge.

“Ms Ran was right,” Naoko commented. She appeared in the doorway with two bags of food cradled under each arm. “Anyway, the storm is only set to get worse. If we stay and our heating goes, then we may well be snowed in with no heat or communication with the outside world. At least if the neighbourhood comes together to the hall then we’ll be able to tackle this together if it gets that bad.”

“I just hope it doesn’t get that bad.” Haru pulled on her jacket and peered doubtfully outside. The snow could still be heard to beat itself against the window pane, beating an irregular rhythm that seemed to alternate between intense battering and the infrequent recession. “I don’t mind a little bit of snow, but this level is just dangerous.”

To her other side, Baron was pulling on the black coat that he had somehow made his own without any prior intent. He was personally hoping Father Winter would shrink it down to Creation size after Christmas. If nothing else, it would remind him of his time as a human. He would have to ask Haru and Naoko whether he would be allowed to keep it first. “Hopefully the decision to group at the town hall will minimise the danger,” he commented calmly.

“I think that was what Ms Ran was also thinking.”

Haru picked up the torch, cradling it between her index finger and her thumb while she picked up a bag with her lower two fingers. She collected together a couple of sleeping bags by their straps and looked over at the other two. “Have we got everything?”

“Well, I’ve got a load of tins and stuff; that should help if we do actually get snowed in... A tin opener too; that’ll come in handy...” Naoko listed.

“Hm, especially with all the tins you’ve just mentioned.” Haru opened the door and grimaced when she received a face full of snow. “Urgh, it really is just horrid out there.”

“Come on; the sooner we get going, the sooner we’ll get to the town hall.”

It was grimly quiet when they entered the building; a far cry from the howling gale outside or the battering beat of the wind beating the mansion. The walk there had taken longer than usual, as they trekked against the storm and dragged their feet through the ever-deepening snow. Perhaps if they had left it to later to make their way to the town hall, the weather would have been too bad.

Ms Ran greeted them by the door, hurriedly directing them to the same room that Jack and Elsie had attended the flower arranging class only a few days ago. But now there had been changes; now the large window section had been hidden away by the drawing of the thick, musty curtains, although the sound of the snow and sleet hitting the glass was still painfully loud. The old grand fireplace had been started into life and was crackling noisily on its side of the room, surrounded by the unmistakable huddle of people wrapped up in blankets.

“We’ll take the food; Ayako Mao is getting together some soup for everyone,” Ms Ran remarked. “Your friends from the carol singing arrived a few minutes back; they’re over there.” The woman nodded to the far side of the room before heading towards the mansion’s kitchens.

Haru and Baron started towards the silhouetted forms of Jack and Elsie, after seeing Naoko get bogged down in conversation with the Yui sisters. Elsie was kneeling down beside some of the neighbourhood children, entertaining them with a few rhymes, while the ex-spirit watched from his nearby corner.

“Is everything going okay?” Baron asked Jack. Haru had been quickly distracted by the children and had joined Elspeth in entertaining them.

Jack made a funny motion with his head, as if he were unsure whether to nod or shake. “I’ve never really seen this side of winter,” he said quietly to Baron. His eyes were trained on the young artist so involved in keeping the youngsters’ spirits up. A faint smile lifted to his face as he watched Elsie make a couple of the kids laugh. “But then, I suppose I was always watching from the outside. All the same it is... endearing to see these humans band together. Over the years, I’ve seen some of the worst of humanity; I never realised how cruel this season could be. Then again, I never realised that humanity could be this caring either.”

“Christmas is a time for miracles,” Baron replied quietly. He was also watching the two women occupy the children’s attentions, but his attention was fixed more so on the younger of the two. “It brings people together.”

“And apparently changes winter spirits,” Jack laughed, but his laugh was a little subdued, a little thoughtful. “Perhaps... Perhaps I judged humanity too soon.”

“Perhaps we judge everyone too soon. After all, when is the right time to judge?”

Despite the children’s giggles, the room still seemed deathly silent. The laughter was hastily swallowed up by the room and the mumbles of conversation. Baron swept his gaze over the inhabitants, unable to mistake the hushed voices for anything but tired, timid fear. Tired because the weather and uncertainty had worn them down and now they had gathered together they were unsure what to do next.

“People are scared,” Jack noted quietly. Even he was not blind to this.

“They don’t know what to do.”

“I thought Christmas was meant to be a time of joy and merriment.” After a questioning look from Baron after this very un-Jack phrasing, Jack added, a tad defensively, “I’ve been around for quite a few Christmases. I’ve heard the carols.”

“Sometimes people forget that. Sometimes it’s very hard to remember.”

Jack looked over the crowd with his own sharp eyes. “I’ve never really seen this side of winter,” he suddenly repeated, and there was a new note in his voice. “Never been inside with those cold and scared. All I saw was the beauty of the storm and the frost and the snow. It never occurred to me to look inside.”

“Then perhaps your time as a human has done you good.”

“Perhaps. Still, I wish there were something I could do to help...”

Baron gave the ex-spirit another look. “You have changed,” he noted. When he caught Jack’s surprised glance, he said, “There was a time when the thought to help would not have occurred. It is a good change. A human change.”

“Thank you.”

Baron looked back across the muted room, his heart still sinking a notch as he saw the huddled forms of people. Haru and Elsie were still entertaining the children; Haru picked up her gaze for a moment to catch his eyes and smiled. And then the little girl she had been teaching rhymes to patted her on the shoulder impatiently and the brunette turned away again. But for a moment the brunette had brought a smile to his face. He continued his inspection of the room, taking in more of the subdued atmosphere and fire-lit shadows, spotting a few familiar faces but mostly strangers to him. He recognised a few people from the carolling; some of them were evidently attached to their instruments, for several had brought theirs with them.

One of these people was the elderly violinist, who was fiddling with the zip of the instrument’s case absent-mindedly as he listened to the weather howling outside. A thought occurred to Baron and the ex-Creation found himself making his way to the man’s side. A few words passed between them and, once again, the violin changed hands.

“What are you planning on doing?” Haru had left the children in Elsie’s responsible care to drift to Baron’s side. She eyed the instrument warily. “You’re not going to make anyone sing a solo, are you?” Evidently she still remembered her own solo the Thursday before last.

Baron spared Haru a grin. “I thought you enjoyed your solo.”

“I did but... I’m not eager to repeat the experience so soon.”

The smile became gentler as he checked the violin, drawing a few experimental notes with the bow. “In my many Christmases, I have heard of many traditions. One of my favourites was a quaint custom originated in England; a service called Nine Lessons and Carols. Originally taking place on Christmas Eve, I remember it as being a service where the community came together to banish their fears and bring their hopes for the next day. Music has a strange way of lifting one’s worries.”

He brought the bow over the strings a second time and this time a clear note wavered in the air.

“Perhaps I am hoping that music will lift people’s spirits today too.”

He drew the bow a third time and a pure note rung out across the room. A smile flitted onto his face as he begun the first very recognisable verse of Silent Night.

The violin’s notes were quiet, but wove their way across the dimly-lit room. The tune was gentle, soft, but still unmistakable. A few people glanced towards the impromptu violin player, but more people appeared to hear the music without quite realising that there was music playing.

He moved onto the second verse, and a few more eyes turned to him; a few more eyes lost their tired, despairing gaze. The roar of the storm outside faded into the background; became less ferocious, less intimidating.

Standing beside him, Haru leant her head on his shoulder, savouring each note.

So much had changed recently. Even Baron, a little. And she wasn’t just thinking of the physical difference.

She closed her eyes in gentle contentment. Yes, perhaps Baron had changed a little. But she loved him all the more for it.

ooOoo

“And on a cold night, a stranger came to the small town and took residence in a long-abandoned building with the faded sign ‘for sale’ still standing at the front. For days the man remained with the building, never leaving it and for days no one saw hide or hair of him.” The smaller Yui sister leant back in the worn armchair, enjoying the attention. The fire to her left threw her weathered face into sharp relief and the other side into deep shadow, but the side that could be seen was relaxed and comfortable.

“Of course,” she continued calmly, “this began to make the townsfolk wonder. Why would someone hide themselves away like that? What could they possibly be doing? Some hoped he was a doctor, but if that were the case, why wasn’t he helping the sick in the community? Others thought he might be a dressmaker, but if that were so, why hadn’t he started advertising his wares? But,” Kumiko added, leaning forward; again, the light and shade distribution on her face flickered, “the children of the town had a special wish, one they kept close to their hearts. But none dared to venture to the building to ask the man.”

Haru smiled to herself as she listened to the elderly woman narrate her story. The younger Yui sister had always been a little quieter than her sister – although they were both domineering if you faced both at once – but it appeared Kumiko wove a good yarn. The brunette leant against Baron, savouring the warmth of his arm around her.

“This was a good idea of yours,” Haru murmured to him. “You know, you might just have started a tradition.”

She saw the smile curve on her companion’s lips. “Traditionally, the Nine Lessons and Carols usually consist of nine hymns or songs, sometimes more, and nine Bible readings,” he informed her quietly, cautious not to disturb the woman beside the fire. “But swapping Christmas stories has a certain beautiful simplicity to it too.”

“Then, on the eve before Christmas,” Kumiko continued, oblivious to Baron and Haru’s hushed discussion, “a small girl dared to enter the building to see what he was doing and to ask if he needed any help. The man smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘There are boxes I would like to empty.’ The little girl opened the boxes and found them to be full of empty jars.” She grinned out at her captive audience and a childlike glimmer entered her eyes. All the occupants of the room had fallen silent to listen to her story, just like they had done for everyone else. And like they had done for the music too.

After Baron had completed his soft violin solo of Silent Night, he had opened the floor – the floor being anywhere in the lounge, although it had now narrowed down to the front of the room, beside the fireplace now – to anyone who wanted to do some music or tell a story. Ms Ran had already domineered it for a period, gathering together the diminished church choir for a cheerful round of “Carol of the Bells” – which, she had insisted, was meant to be performed without aid of musical instruments so, no, the band was not required for that particular song – and after that the band had done a purely orchestral piece. A few people had even begun dancing during that, although everyone had now settled down to listen to Kumiko.

Elsie leant towards Jack, listening to Kumiko and yet her attention was drawn to the ex-spirit. “Have you heard this story before?” she asked quietly.

Jack gave a curt nod. “I am familiar with many of the Christmas traditions, songs and stories. This one is no exception.”

“Perhaps you should take a turn at storytelling next then,” Elsie challenged. “If you’re oh-so-knowledgeable about Christmas stories and the such as you say you are.”

“I don’t think so. Shush; you’re going to miss the next bit of the story.”

Elsie rolled her eyes, not because he was wrong, but just because he already knew the story so he wasn’t fully listening himself. All the same, she didn’t respond and let her attention return to the storyteller.

“The little girl put them on the counter and stared into them, when they were suddenly filled with candy. The little girl looked up to see the man filling the jars with every type of sweet, and he asked if the girl wanted to help him give out some candy. The girl nodded and asked what type. Gum drops? Lolly pops?”

“Candy canes,” Jack whispered to Elspeth.

She hissed at him good-naturedly to shush.

Oblivious, Kumiko continued. “But instead the man pulled out another jar, this one filled with a new type of sweet, one that the little girl had never seen before. When she asked what it was, he told her it was his very favourite candy; a candy cane.”

“Told you.”

The young artist elbowed the once-spirit.

“He said it was the very best gift for Christmas. He said the red lines represented the blood God shed for us, and as we wash away the red it is replaced with a pure white cane, like our souls after He gave his life for us. And the cane reminded him of a shepherd’s staff, one that was told about many times in the Bible.

“The pair of them delivered the new candy to every house, along with an invite to the newly-opened store. And at the shop the boards were replaced with brand new windows that shone with dazzling light and delicious candies. Everyone came, and the old men who had hoped he was a doctor felt young again, and the women who had hoped he was a dressmaker forgot about dresses and danced the whole night through.”

Kumiko leant back contently in her chair, beaming at her audience.

“And that, people, is how the candy cane began.” She grinned once more and slowly eased herself out of the chair. “And with that, I’ll leave the floor open to anyone else who wants it.”

Ms Ran took the front; she had unofficial taken the role of organiser. “Right, so has anyone a burning urge to come up here? Come on, don’t be shy. You know I’ll just pick one of you if you don’t volunteer.”

“Jack wants to tell a story!” Elsie shouted, waving with one hand and pointing at Jack with her other. “He’s game!”

Jack glared at Elspeth. “No.”

“Come on; you said that you know all the Christmas stories. There must be one you can tell.”

“I didn’t exactly say that I know them all...”

Despite his protests, he was dragged to the front. The matriarch of the community looked at the man who toppled her height by a good three inches. Nonetheless, she looked like the larger character, with her stately stance and confident – if a little overbearing – attitude. “Evening; I see you’ve decided to join us again. You came to the carolling, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Name?”

“Jack Frost.”

Ms Ran raised an eyebrow, but this was joint between the Christmassy name and the rather curt answers she was receiving. “Right, you appear to be a no-nonsense type. What do you plan on doing? A song? A story?”

Jack barely resisted grimacing at the song option. He wanted to reduce the humiliation to a minimum. “According to _her_ ,” he said grouchily, jerking a thumb in the direction of Elspeth, “I’m doing a story.”

“Okay then.” Ms Ran gestured to the now-empty armchair. “Take a seat and begin.”

The woman walked away, leaving Jack standing rather awkwardly at the front. He glanced to his audience and slowly moved to take the offered seat, all the while watching the people before him like they were preparing to pounce the moment he let down his guard.

“I’m not very good on the whole speaking thing...” he mumbled, tentatively. “I’m sure Elsie could tell you that, on the talking business, I rather struggle... And certainly when it comes to crowds.”

A little child wandered up to the nervous form of Jack and tugged at his trouser leg. He glanced down at the kid with surprise, as if unsure what he was meant to do. “Um... Yes?”

“I-Is your name really Jack Fr-Frost?” the little girl stuttered. She had eyes too large for her face; she looked so small and fragile when standing beside the seated ex-winter spirit.

“Y... Yes.” He glanced up to his audience, almost waiting for a mother to come running out of the crowd and reclaim her daughter. There was no hysterical mother, and so he turned his head back down when the little girl tugged at his leg again.

“Are you the r-r-real Jack Frost?” The stutter appeared to be a trait the girl had naturally; even her curiosity couldn’t cure it.

An uncertain smile wavered on his lips. “I... I suppose... Yes.” Somehow he knew that his answer would only be taken as a story to entertain the child; none of the adults would believe him seriously.

The girl stuck a thumb in her mouth, regarded the man with her wide blue eyes, and then retrieved her thumb. “Can you tell a Jack Frost st-story?” She watched him with those same large soulful eyes. Then, as if remembering something, added neatly, “Please.”

Jack’s gaze flitted over the hall as he weighed a few thoughts up in his mind. “I... guess so.”

“Good.” The girl raised her hands to him in a gesture Jack had seen, but had never had the gesture offered to him before. Again, he glanced up to see whether the mother was about to snatch the child away. He looked back to the girl, who was now giving a toothy smile. He could see her two front teeth had fallen out recently; one had started to grow while the other was still a gummy hole. He nervously placed his hands around the child’s waist and hoisted her to his lap.

“This story is about Jack Frost and...” His eyes found Elsie and a soft smile – softer than his usual one – tugged at his lips. “And a human woman.” He looked down to the child on his lap and directed his narration to the girl. “You know who Jack Frost is; he is the winter sprite who is responsible for frosty weather, for nipping the nose in such weather, colouring the leaves in autumn and leaving patterns on the windows. Originally known in Viking lore as Jokul Frosti, he has been around for a very long time.”

“H-how long?”

Jack paused. He knew there was a common phrase used in fairytales, but he couldn’t recall it right now. “For... many, many winters,” he eventually answered, falling back on his own history. “But all his winters couldn’t prepare him for when he fell in love with a human maiden.” He paused, avoiding Elspeth’s gaze. “He went to Father Winter, who gave him a choice. Father Winter could temporarily change him to human until the end of Christmas Eve, at which point Jack had the choice of remaining human or returning to his spirit form. By that point, Jack Frost had to win the love of the young maiden.

“But Jack Frost was... cold and unfamiliar with the human world,” Jack continued hesitantly. “He had seen it from afar for many winters, but to walk with humanity, talk, deal with day-to-day trivialities...” He shook his head disbelievingly. “It was very different to simply being an observer. He didn’t understand human emotions; sorrow, humour... _love_ were all new to him and he struggled with being human.”

His eyes strayed across the room and found Elspeth. “However, the woman he fell in love with taught him to become more human...” Their eyes met and he could have been mistaken, but there was the barest of a blush visible on the young artist’s cheeks.

Moving his gaze along the crowd before him, his eyes strayed to the close forms of Haru and Baron. A small smile flickered over his face. “Father Winter had provided a few helpers along on the journey too, and through...” He chuckled dryly at this point, looking rather sheepish. “And through quite a few mishaps and learning from mistakes and lots of encouragement he began to understand what being human really meant. He fell in love with the woman for real; not because she was pretty, although she was, or because she could make art out of ice, although she could, but because her soul was beautiful. She taught him to love, and to love being human too. Perhaps he even earned her love back.”

“And did he?”

Jack glanced down to the child. He had almost forgotten her presence. “And did he what?”

“Win the heart of the maiden?”

“Well, Christmas Eve hasn’t ended just yet,” he answered. He looked up and his eyes met Elsie’s cloudy grey ones once again. “I suppose only time will tell.”


	24. Saturday 24th December 2011

_It was only a winter's tale,_

_Just another winter's tale._

_And why should the world take notice_

_Of one more love that's failed?_

_A love that could never be_

_Though it meant a lot to you and me;_

_On a world wide scale we're just another winter's tale._

_x_

**Saturday 24 th December 2011: Just Another Winter’s Tale**

Outside, the weather showed no sign of lessening, and the occupants of the town hall were well and truly snowed in now. The road that wound its way past the ancestral building was thickly padded with the alternative layering of snow and ice, and after one brave individual had attempted to walk out in it and almost sprained an ankle, no one else had attempted to follow their example.

Leaning against the tall, almost ceiling-height windows, Jack watched the storm batter itself against the glass. Flurries of snowflakes threw themselves against the window and slowly melted into droplets. He watched the deceased snowflakes run their course down the glass before reaching the thick layer of snow on the ground. He had woven his way past the curtain, which was drawn in a futile attempt to hide the ferocity of the storm from the people occupying the building, and so was hidden away from the rest of the humans in the room.

Had humans always been this... fragile? A few snowflakes seemed to turn their world upside down. A few snowflakes were enough to make them hide away; enough to make them scared and gather together for protection. The darkness made them fearful. He had never feared darkness; at the poles, night would last months. There was nothing in the dark that he hadn’t seen in the light, and there were even fewer things that could harm a winter spirit.

“You look deep in thought.”

Jack picked up his head to see Elspeth standing to the side. She held a wisp of the faded velvet red curtain in one hand and a steaming cup of something in the other.

“I was just watching the storm.”

Elsie walked to his side and stared out at the storm. “In a way it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered.

Jack looked back out to the domineering weather outside. “I haven’t heard many people say that before,” he answered quietly.

“Do you agree though?”

“I have seen winter in all of its moods; in the gentle frost of morning, in the days where the sky is so blue and the sun shines but gives no warmth, in the days where the sky is just a sea of clouds so thick that the sun shines like the moon, and the days like this. They are all beautiful.”

Elsie attempted a weak smile. “For someone who hates flowers, you sure do speak flowery when you feel like it.”

He smiled slightly back, looking a little embarrassed. “Don’t you, when you are passionate about something?”

“Sometimes.” The young artist looked down to her hands which were still holding the mug. “I brought you some soup. I thought you could do with it.”

She passed across the steaming cup to Jack and for a moment their hands made contact. Elsie frowned, but let Jack take the soup. Her slight expression did not go unnoticed however.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just...” Elsie was giving him a very searching look, and halfway through her answer she appeared to decide that she wanted an answer for whatever question had occurred to her, for she trailed off. “Give me your hand,” she ordered. “Your left one, not the one holding the soup.”

Slowly, Jack complied, but he still looked mildly confused.

Elsie caught his hand in both of her slim ones, the frown steadily intensifying. “You’re warm,” she whispered.

He started, and tried to reclaim his hand, but Elsie’s grip was firm.

“You’ve always been cold,” she said. “You’ve never been warm. _Ever_. Not once since I’ve met you...”

“Perhaps I’m more human than you think.”

“Perhaps.”

Elspeth gradually released her hold, but there was still a troubled, questioning look in her eyes. She stared back out at the storm for a few seconds longer, idly fiddling with the nail of her right ring finger.

“That was a sweet story you told yesterday,” she eventually said softly.

“Thank you.” Regarding the brunette to his side, Jack offered, “Is there something bothering you? Something that links to that story?”

“In a way...”

Jack waited for Elspeth to elaborate and after a few more hesitant seconds, she did.

“It made me begin to question just how well I know you. I know nothing of your past; you say you have been to Scotland and you talk of your love of winter, but I don’t know who you really are. I don’t know where you were born, what nationality you are, what books you like... Not even what your favourite colour is.”

“I didn’t realise an individual’s favourite colour spoke so much about their personality.”

“It doesn’t,” she said. She ran one slender hand through her short brunette hair, closing her eyes stressfully. “It’s one of those small talk questions that are made to pass the time. But don’t you see? We haven’t even discussed something as minimal as that.”

“We have discussed more important matters.”

“We’ve discussed _my_ matters. Not yours.” Elsie looked up at the ex-spirit, her stormy-grey eyes unusually wide and defenceless. Jack couldn’t help thinking of the little girl who had sat on his lap the day before. “Where do you come from? Who are your parents? What hobbies do you have? Where did you go to school? What was your favourite subject?”

Jack opened his mouth and then closed it again. A lie would be so easy.

But, if this all worked out, he would have to live with that lie for the rest of his life.

And then there was his promise.

_“Promise me you won’t lie to me. Promise me that if there’s something important I should know, you won’t keep it from me. I’ve had enough lies to last me a lifetime.”_

_“I promise.”_

Hadn’t he said that?

He brought his eyes to meet Elspeth’s. “Winter help me,” he muttered. He licked his lips nervously and sent a silent prayer up to anyone who might be listening. The soup was rapidly cooling in his hands; he doubted that he would get around to actually consuming it before it became cold. Thinking this, he placed it to the side, spotting a table just beside the curtain. “I have to ask a favour of you first. Whatever I tell you, whatever I say... please let me finish before you judge me.”

“Why does sound ominous?”

“Please, Elspeth.”

The artist hesitated. “Alright,” she agreed.

“Thank you.” His task remained as difficult as ever, all the same. “You deserve the truth. It’s not a very... easy truth to tell though. But...” He faltered. But what? How could he explain that the truth was stranger than fiction; that he had no recognisable, human past, that he had not even been human before this month?

“I’m listening,” Elsie offered quietly.

Jack gave a nod, made curt by the tension inside his mind. “Do you remember that story I told yesterday?” He knew she did.

“Yes.” A strange sort of smile flitted across Elspeth’s face, as if she was not entirely sure what she thought of the story anymore. “The similarities between that and the past month were... striking. It appears you fell back on your own experiences for the telling of that tale.”

“I fell back on my own experiences a lot more than you think.”

The smile flickered for a moment and Elsie tilted her head at the ex-spirit. “So you’re saying that you’re...?” She laughed for half a moment; a sort of repressed, breathy laugh that died in her throat. She stared at Jack when he didn’t join in. “Oh... God, you’re serious.”

Jack dropped his gaze to the floor. “Yes.”

The beginnings of a frown were forming over the artist’s brow. “But... But you _can’t_ be...”

“Why not?”

“Because... Because Jack Frost... all that about nipping noses and colouring autumn leaves... none of that is real. It’s all just folklore; just a primitive people’s explanation for how the seasons change.” She had started in a whisper that grew with her next sentence. “But science has proven that there is no... _magical being,”_ she stuttered, waving a hand in the air with frustration and hurt, “making it snow or making the frost patterns on the window or whatever. It’s _science_.”

“The frost was my job.”

“Frost is formed when a solid surface is chilled below the dew point of the surrounding air and the surface itself is colder than freezing!” Elsie cried. “I work with ice for my living; don’t tell me that there is a mythological being deigning to make pretty patterns in the windows!”

“I’ve been working with the ice and the frost my entire existence,” Jack said quietly. His voice was still quiet; somehow the anger that may have arisen at being addressed such would not come. All he felt was a hollow emptiness inside him – sadness. “I know the science of it.”

“Then what are you good for?” she hissed.

“You make art of ice,” Jack continued in the same sorrowfully calm voice. “You carve it, you chisel it; you manipulate it. You’re not altering the rules of nature, even if your human devices can lower the temperature and your mechanical gadgets can shape the ice. And yet, your sculptures will eventually melt. Why do you do that?”

“I do it because it’s beautiful and I enjoy it.”

“Then how is my work different?”

“You cannot be... You just can’t...” Elsie lowered her head, shaking it fretfully. Jack was distressed to see a few tears squeeze past her guard. He put a hand out in an instinctive urge to comfort her, but the woman pulled away. “Please, don’t... You’re just like _him_...”

“Elsie...”

“You’re doing exactly the same as _him_ ,” she reiterated. Her voice was becoming breathless, but a new emotion was creeping into her tone. Anger. She picked up her head and those stormy grey eyes were flashing with the anger and hurt. “You’re getting cold feet, just like him. This is just like the wedding. I can’t believe I thought this could work any differently...”

Jack caught her shoulders. “Elsie! I’m _not_ running out on you!”

She fought against his hold, but Jack didn’t release her. Eventually she gave in, her head slumping down and the quick rise and fall of her chest indicating her heart was still racing. “Then what do you call this?”

“I’m trying to tell the truth!”

“You’re hiding the truth. Was this all a game to you? You thought you’d pick up a young woman, get her to trust you, get her to tell you her deepest secrets and fears, let her...” She choked on the next part. ”...fall in love with you, but as soon as the conversation turns to you, you decide to scarper? You think you would just throw me a lie about being some... _mythical character_ , and I would willingly accept it?”

“No, I–”

“Did you think I was stupid?”

“No, never. Elsie–”

“Because I’m not. And I can tell when I’m being taken for a ride. I won’t play this game again; you won’t break my heart like he did.”

She broke from his grip suddenly and disappeared through the gap in the curtain. Jack floundered after her, reaching out through the gap and falling into the table. His soup teetered on the edge and then toppled onto the aging carpet. He staggered on one leg, one leg sporting a bruise from the unexpected contact with the table, the other gradually soaking in the soup spillage spreading across the floor.

“Aw... _hawthorn_!” he loudly exclaimed. He stumbled across the crowds, trying to spot where the young artist was fleeing to. He reached the door to see Elspeth making her way around a confused Haru and Baron, and quickly disappear through the door to the outside. He reached Haru and Baron, gasping for breath and needing to lean against the wall to counter the bruise swelling on his left leg.

“Where... Where did...?”

“She said she was returning to her aunt’s house,” Haru supplied. “We tried to get her to slow down to explain things, but she ignored us and just ran out. Jack, is everything okay?”

“I...” Jack paused to regain his breath, leaning his head against the wall and staring up at the arched ceiling of the hallway. He closed his eyes momentarily and blearily opened them. “I told her the truth. She believed I was lying to her because I didn’t take the relationship seriously and now thinks that I was just telling her that to get out of telling the truth. And now I’ve lost her.”

“Go after her then.”

“What would be the point? I see no way to prove my true identity; all my magic has gone over the last week, so how can I prove it? Who knows? She might be happier with someone more... ordinary anyway.”

“Jack,” Haru insisted, “that’s not true. You’re just telling yourself that.”

“Has anyone seen Elsie?” A new individual had appeared at the doorway halfway down the corridor, leaning out of the room where the majority of people resided. Machida glanced over the group huddling beside the door to the outside. “Haru, have you seen her? Mrs Mao says she volunteered to help give out the soup.”

“She’s gone back to your place,” the brunette answered, pointing at the door behind her. Then, feeling rather guilty that Mrs Mao had lost a helper, she started, “If you want, I could help...”

To her shock, Machida swore, although it wasn’t at her. He rushed to the door. “Back to mine; are you sure?” he demanded.

“Yes... Why?”

“We arrived here around the back way, and that was tricky _then_. Now it’ll be nigh impossible, and she doesn’t even know the route very well...”

“The back way?” Baron inquired. “Where does that go?”

“It goes through the grounds that belonged to the original owners,” Machida quickly explained. “Now it’s just public land that the locals sometimes walk through when it’s nice; it’s mostly garden round here, but further out it’s forest, and there’s a river flowing through it too. We took that way because it would be quicker – otherwise we would have to go around the grounds and that would be two sides of a triangle.” He pulled the door open and peered out. The snow was coming down so thickly that there seemed to be no distinction where one snowflake ended and another one started.

“She’ll be lost for sure,” Jack growled. He started out, but Baron caught his arm.

“Think, Jack,” Baron ordered. “If you go out there alone, you’ll only end up get lost too and then we’ll have to find both of you. I suggest we see if we can contact Miss Elspeth and then conduct a plan between all of us.”

“I have her mobile number,” Machida offered.

“Good. Establish whether you can ascertain contact.”

“He means phone Elsie,” Haru helped. “He get’s rather articulate when he’s improvising.”

Baron looked over at Haru. “I am not improvising.”

“Uh-huh. Just like you weren’t in the Cat–”

“Please!” snapped Jack. The three others turned their eyes to him, surprised by the unexpected outburst. He huffed and said, in a calmer, but still rather taut, voice, “Elsie is still out there, and we still have no idea whether she is safe or not. How long does it take to get to your home by the back route?”

“Twenty minutes. Give or take. It’ll be longer in this weather.”

“So she’ll certainly still be out there. Please, just contact her.”

Shrugging, Machida brought out his mobile phone and selected a number. He clicked another button and put the call on loudspeaker.

For several seconds, the ringing was all they heard. More seconds ticked by and all of them – Jack more than the rest of them – were beginning to get rather anxious. When the phone clicked, they jumped when they heard Elsie’s voice.

“ _Hello, this is Elspeth Moroz, professional artist; I am unable to get to my phone right now, but if you leave a..._ ”

There was a sudden click.

“ _Hi, who’s that? Sorry; I had a hard time finding my phone._ ”

Jack almost laughed. As things stood, he only gave a loud sigh of relief.

Machida leant over the phone. “Elsie, where on earth are you? You’re going to get lost out there.”

“ _I’m fine. I know where I am_.”

“Where are you?” Haru called.

“ _Um, well I recognise the path... I’m in the wood. Tell Machida to stop worrying; I grew up in snowy forests, I know my way around them_.”

“You know your way around the forests you _grew up_ _in_ ,” Machida corrected irately. “You don’t know your way around that forest and in this weather it’d be near suicidal.”

“Elsie, listen to him,” Jack implored. “It’s dangerous. Please just come back to the hall.”

There was a sudden silence at the other end; with Elsie’s lack of conversation, the sound of the storm filled the line. “ _Is that Jack?_ ” she eventually asked.

There was an exchanging of glances between the four of them; only three knew what had happened between Jack and Elsie, but Machida could not mistake the tone in Elspeth’s voice. “Yes, it is,” Machida answered carefully.

“ _Tell him that he can go freeze his big, fat, mythical head in the river_.”

Machida looked to Jack. “Hold on for a moment,” he said to the phone, and covered the mouthpiece with his hand. He glared at the ex-spirit. “What is that about?” he hissed to Jack. “If you’ve hurt her in any way...”

“I never meant to,” Jack whispered back. “There’s been a mistake.”

“Oh, really?”

“Elsie thought that Jack was lying to her,” Haru supplied quietly.

“Is that true?”

“No!”

“Then why–?”

“A misunderstanding,” Jack insisted.”Please, let me talk to Elsie.”

Machida looked over at the man with distrust. “My cousin has the most sensible head on her shoulders out of anyone I know. If there’s been a misunderstanding, then it’s been a hell of a misunderstanding.”

“Please.”

Machida must have seen something genuine in Jack’s eyes, because he sighed and passed his mobile to him. “Alright. But if it turns out that you’ve been hurting her, you’ll have me to answer to.”

Jack nodded his understanding and carefully lifted the phone to his head. “Elsie?”

“ _You lost the right to call my by that name about ten minutes ago_ ,” Elsie growled. “ _Give the phone back to Machida_.”

Her cousin hesitated and brought up a hand in a gesture that suggested he was waiting for Jack to return the phone. Jack raised a hand defensively and looked imploringly at Machida, mouthing a plea for him to try for a little longer. Machida sighed and dropped his hand.

“Elsie – Miss Elspeth, I mean... Please, your cousin is right. It’s dangerous out there and you need to return to the hall before you become too lost.”

“ _Back to **you** , you mean?_” the voice at the other end hissed.

Jack sighed and closed his eyes. For a moment he looked every bit his age of ‘many winters’. “If you come back, I promise I won’t come anywhere near you,” he whispered. Haru moved suddenly, not expecting that promise and not wanting Jack to make that promise, but a gentle hand on her shoulder from Baron reminded her that this was a personal matter between Jack and Elsie. “And,” Jack continued, “I’ll leave Christmas morning and you won’t ever see me again.”

There was another silence, another bout of seconds filled only with the indistinctive roar of the storm. Elsie hadn’t been expecting that promise either. “ _How do I know you’ll keep to that promise?_ ” she asked shakily.

A bittersweet smile flittered across Jack’s face. “Because if I break it, I’m almost certain your cousin will be dunking my ‘big, fat, mythological head’ in the nearest freezing river. Please, Elsie – Miss Elspeth... I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll promise to leave now, if it’ll make you agree to return.”

A third silence filled the air, and this time they could hear Elsie’s breathing over the line. “ _That won’t be necessary,_ ” she murmured. “ _I’ll come back. But my cousin **will** make you keep to your earlier promises._ ”

That bittersweet smile remained sadly on Jack’s features. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

ooOoo

When had it become so cold? When had the snow eased its way into her skin and chilled her from the inside? When had the temperature dropped so low that her lungs were having to fight to breathe?

Elsie stopped at the forest before her; her footprints in the snow had long ago been replaced with more snow, making every route look identical. Her stormy grey eyes flitted over the spread of frosted trees before her, looking for some identifying mark that would show her the right way.

“Maybe Machida was right,” she murmured to herself. “This really is nigh impossible.”

She hesitated before decisively shaking her head and impulsively choosing the path – if it could be called that; it was more a lack of trees in that particular patch – to her left. The forest could only be so big, she reasoned. If she kept going in one direction, she would have to come to the edge of it sooner or later.

The route she had taken was icier than it looked; several times she had to catch herself on a passing branch to prevent herself hitting the snowy ground with a bump. On the fifth time, she caught herself on a bramble and left a scar on the back of her hand. She paused to check it and, on seeing the cut was relatively clean, pulled her sleeve over her hand to shield it from any other wayward branches.

“Of course,” she reasoned out loud, “usually one would go for a wander in a snowy forest in proper winter wear. “Something a little more practical than just putting on wellingtons and only two layers. Waterproof trousers would be a start,” she grumbled.

She found that talking to herself was a comfort; in the howling storm, there was no other recognisable sound. The snow muffled everything else apart from the wind’s roar and the constant thud of her boots plodding through the layer of snow beneath her.

“If I get a cold tomorrow, just in time for Christmas day, I think I shall go mad. I wouldn’t put it past life currently though. Right now it just feels like there’s someone slowly seeing how far I’ll bend before I break. Well, I won’t break. I’ve got through worse than this; I got through the aftermath of the wedding and I can survive this. Anyway, it can’t possibly get any worse, can it?”

Fate must have decided that the challenge was too tempting, because at that point she slipped and slid ungracefully down a bank, landing rather heavily on the snow below. She groaned and picked herself up to give a glare at the steep incline that she had just dropped down.

“Evidently it can.”

She moved her gaze across the landscape before her, quite aware that she couldn’t scale the drop and so would have to take the route before her.

It was a strange landscape; strange in the fact that it was barren of life for a good ten metres or so before any trees started to be present and the ground rose again, although at a lesser gradient to the one Elsie had previously fallen down. It was climbable at least.

She headed over to the other side, savouring the slight protection the miniature valley provided her from the storm, the ground creaking beneath her. Once at the other side of the barren streak, she clambered onto the other side with some difficultly. The ground had turned to ice under the snowy layer, making it a battle to scale the side. Eventually she reached the top and, still breathing heavily to combat the cold tightening her lungs, leant against a tree to survey her surroundings. She let out a groan of frustration when she saw it all looked exactly the same.

“Great, I’m as lost as ever. If anything, I don’t think I even recognise this area.” She started to stalk off along the side of the edge – further away this time, to ensure she didn’t do a repeat of last time – and followed more or less the same route as before, keeping an eye out in case the other side was low enough that she could return to her previous route.

“Note to self; next time I get the urge to abruptly leave, don’t. Or, even better, take a guide,” she commented to herself.

As she went, her foot caught in an empty rabbit burrow, sending her headfirst into a rather thick tree. Groaning, she landed on her side, watching stars flicker in her sight.

‘ _No, no, no... Falling unconscious in a frozen forest is bad, **very** bad_.’

She fought to stay awake, but her brain wasn’t responding. The stars intensifying and the forest blurring out of sight, she managed to press a few buttons on her phone in a desperate attempt to call someone.

She was unconscious by the time the phone started ringing.

ooOoo

“It’s Elsie!”

The three other individuals raced over to Machida.

“Why is she ringing us? Do you think she’s got lost?”

“Let’s answer it and see.” Machida put the phone on loudspeaker again and clicked to answer the call. “Hi, Elsie. What’s happening? Do you know where you are?”

There was only the roar of the storm for a reply.

“Elsie? Elspeth! Please answer!”

Several more seconds of Elsie’s absence ticked by.

Jack snatched the phone off Machida. “Answer the phone, Elsie!”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“Perhaps she’s just dropped the phone,” Machida offered. He took his own phone back off Jack.

“What, straight after phoning you?”

“It is possible.”

Baron, who had been silent up to that point, abruptly spoke up. “I don’t like it. Miss Elspeth does not seem like the type of individual to carelessly drop her only source of contact when she evidently needs to talk to us.”

“I agree,” Haru added. “If anything, she’s most certainly lost. She’s been out there for a good half an hour now; she should be back by now.”

“All in favour of getting a search party to find Elsie, say aye,” Machida sighed.

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Then we better start getting some more people together. People will help, if they know the situation.”

“Wait.” Baron firmly relieved Machida of the phone and spoke down into it. “Miss Elsie, please stay where you are. We are coming to find you.” He passed the mobile back to Machida. “Don’t end the call,” he instructed. “Does she have enough money to keep the call going for the foreseeable future?”

“She always keeps her credit healthy, yes. Why? Why do you ask?”

“If she is unconscious, then we may need some way to make her easier to find. If we send a loud noise down the line, then that noise will pinpoint her location while we are out there searching for her.”

“I can do that,” Haru offered. She smiled slightly wanly. “Hiromi gave me the most annoying version of Jingle Bells on my phone; it’s loud and very distinctive.”

“Good. Can you stay here then and also keep an ear out in case Elspeth answers her phone?”

“Sure. Good luck, guys.”

ooOoo

The storm around the unconscious woman intensified for half a minute; when it died down back to its original ferocity, a familiar winter spirit was standing before her.

Father Winter knelt down and drew one bone-white finger along the brunette’s sharp jaw line. He noted the frigid temperature of the skin, the deathly pallor, the shallow breathing.

“Miss Elspeth Moroz, I presume. If only you knew the truth behind your Jack Frost. My, how cold you are.”

He tilted his head to the side to get a clearer view of the human’s face, before standing slowly back up.

“Mortals,” he murmured. “All so fragile.”

He curled his hand around and the snow around him began to come together to form his ever-changing staff. He tapped it once upon the snowy floor and the storm lessened around him, reducing to a gentler pattering of snow. The respite centred on Elsie’s form only though; further out the storm resumed as normal.

“Now, now; we can’t have you freezing to death, can we? I know a certain human who will be very upset if that happens.”

He knelt down once more and, in the hand not holding the staff, blew into his palm. A fine mist flowed from his mouth and, at his bidding, moved softly to engulf the woman. For a moment, Elsie’s skin glowed, and then the mist sunk into her skin.

A sigh escaped her lips and her chest heaved as breathing was suddenly released from being a chore. The slightest of colour flushed her skin, but it was becoming healthier as the seconds passed.

Father Winter nodded his approval.

“Sleep safely, Miss Elspeth Moroz. Jack Frost is making his way even as I speak.”

ooOoo

_Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way._

_Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh, hey!_

Jack picked up the faint jingle of the Christmas tune, weak against the muffled surroundings of the snow-thick forest. Haru had been right. It was indeed loud – despite the muffled tune, it sounded like it was much louder when in closer proximity. And, even from this distance, it was distinctive, tinny, and _incredibly annoying_. He wasn’t about to mistake it for anything else.

He fingered the plastic orange whistle strung around his neck, recalling Baron’s instructions. It should sound loud and shrill enough to enable anyone in the close – or, hopefully, not so close too – vicinity to track down his location. To be used if he found Elsie or if he got himself into trouble.

Jack pricked his head at an angle, trying to pinpoint the direction from which the jingling tune rung from. Heading along a route – at least, he hoped it was a route; there was a slight change in the distribution of surrounding trees – the tune began to fade. He stopped and headed back along the way he’d come and now completely lost the music.

‘ _Perhaps Haru should have chosen something even more distinctive..._ ’

He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Elsie!”

Of course, he got no answer. He didn’t know why he had been expecting anything different. Pacing back once again, beginning to feel like a yoyo, he eventually picked up the strains of music.

_Jingle bells, jingle bells..._

The barest of words could be made out, but it was enough to follow.

_Jingle all the way..._

There were no prints in the snow, but then, with the thick storm around him, he hadn’t been expecting to find any. Still, the music was gradually growing louder with every step; a reassuring sign that he was going in the right direction.

_Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh..._

He came to a break in the landscape; a point where the ground fell away to a level snowy surface below. The song was louder now, almost perfectly clear. Taking his time, Jack peered over the edge and spotted a familiar form unconscious on the other side.

“Elsie!”

Jack jumped down onto the lower layer of snow; an unmistakable creaking sound accompanied his landing. He froze. He had watched over too many winters to not recognise that sound. Kneeling down, he scraped away at the thick over-layer of snow at his feet to find his fingers digging into the distinctive smooth surface of ice. Another brush with his hand revealed this to be ice over a river.

Jack picked his head up and regarded the tree-less landscape stretching for the ten metres in front of him.

‘ _Idiot. That’s why there isn’t any vegetation here... I should have read the signs earlier_.’ Jack groaned and plastered a hand to his forehead. ‘ _It’s this human brain; it’s so thickity- **thick**!_ ’

Removing his hand from his forehead, he glanced back up at the frozen river before him and took a step forward that resulted in more creaking. Another step, and the ice broke beneath his feet. He jumped back to avoid a soaking, but only just managed it.

There was now a gaping hole before him, with cracks visibly forming as he watched. He tried another step forward, and the ice broke away again.

‘ _This is ridiculous. The river has been frozen for long enough for Elsie to cross it safely; why then is my own passage so hazardous?_ ’

Finally remembering the whistle around his neck, he brought the orange item to his lips and gave it a shrill call. He waited for a response; eventually there were several faint replying whistles. Too far away to be of any help any time soon. He looked back across the frozen river where Elsie was still lying – unconscious and entirely vulnerable to the elements.

In all his winters, Jack had seen his share of humans out in the harsh seasonal weather. He had come to know just how weak and defenceless humans could be when not prepared against his cold. He knew they couldn’t last long – certainly not without discomfort and perhaps with even fatal consequences.

He placed a tentative foot on another section of ice, only to hear it crack again.

“By all the winters,” he could be heard to mutter mutinously to himself. “I never thought I’d see the day I’d be defeated by my own ice. This would not be a problem if I were still a winter sprite.” Kneeling slowly down and fishing a heavy stick out from the ever-growing snow layer, he tossed the stick across the ice. It bounced several times before slowly skidding to a halt.

‘ _At least I know it’s not that thin_.’

Jack stole another look at Elsie, aware that he only had a limited window before the young artist was in possibly fatal danger – if she wasn’t already. Carefully returning to his full height, he attempted to cross the river again. He made several metres before another crack – this time, almost earth-shattering – rang out through the air.

Several stormy, winter-related curses flitted through Jack’s lips.

After seconds passed, he moved one foot out in front of him. The ground – made of ice and no longer as stable as he’d like – wobbled. He quickly brought his foot back and spared a glance behind him. The side he had just come from was close enough that if he made a run for it he could easily make it back without too much of a risk. But, as for the other side... he still had a good seven metres to go.

Further downstream – but not far enough for Jack’s liking – the ice made another audible creaking sound and cracked straight across. He watched with pale-faced dismay as the ice distinctly cracked a good yard or two downstream and separated from the rest. It flowed away to reveal a fast-flowing river, revealing to Jack just how easily he would be swept away if he fell into it.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered furiously to himself. “I get the picture; it’s dangerous. Just leave me to save Elsie now.”

He made a move to step forward, but there was another cracking sound before him. He froze, and warily regarded the surface before him. Whipping the whistle out, he gave it another loud call. The replying whistles were still faint. The remaining seven metres of ice seemed to decide to react with more snapping sounds as it visibly began to move.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me...”

The ice beneath him was feeling noticeably unstable now; marking that he had a split-second choice – head either back or forwards, but he could not stay debating the matter. He took one step back; the ice was more secure back there, and leant his weight onto his back foot.

He took a slow, heavy breath.

“And I thought I was the rational type...”

He shifted his weight onto his front foot and propelled himself forward; covering a good distance with each bound. The second step resulted in a discerning shift in the ice; the third step was accompanied by a crack widening to expose fast flowing water racing below him. He wavered for a moment before regaining his balance and taking several more wide-paced steps. At the second-to-last step, the ice shifted a good metre or so and started to flow downstream.

Jack leapt and caught the brow of the snowy riverbank. He spared several more seconds to regain his breath and glance behind him to what had once been a frozen river.

Now, the ice was almost all gone on the near side of the river; most of it was steadily disappearing further down the river with the fast-flowing current, and Jack quickly returned his attention to the snow bank he was gripping onto. He would rather not be reminded of the near miss he had just experienced.

“Oh... _Elsie_!”

He clambered up onto the top of the bank, quickly kneeling beside the unconscious form of the woman. He knew all too well that being unconscious in this weather was downright dangerous. He needed to get her to wake up...

He had barely made his way to Elsie’s side before registering the change in the air. The storm had lessened; no longer did he have to battle his way against the wind and snow. He pushed the notice aside and shook Elsie’s shoulders.

“Come on, come on; wake up!”

She murmured something, but didn’t open her eyes. At least she was alive. Now Jack began to pick up other discrepancies; she was still warm and her skin was still a healthy pallor. Her breathing was light, but of a person sleeping peacefully. It wasn’t what he had seen of people suffering from the cold.

Jack placed a tentative hand over Elsie’s forehead; it too was a healthy warm temperature. “Oh, Winter; you sly dog. I should have known you wouldn’t let any harm come to her.” He moved his hands to the artist’s shoulders again and gave them another shake, but this time slightly gentler. “Elsie.... Elsie, we need to get back...”

She murmured something, but this time the sound was accompanied by a quiet groan and then the movement of her eyelids. After a few moments, they grudgingly opened.

“...Jack?” She blinked, and looked up at the ex-spirit. He saw her eyes slip past him to take in her surroundings. “Where... Where am I?”

“In the forest out past the town hall. Come on; everyone’s worried sick.”

“How... How long have I been out?”

“Long enough that we need to get you back as soon as possible. Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

“I think I just knocked myself out. I think I can walk.”

“Good.” Jack moved to help Elsie up to her feet. She tensed for a moment, and then seemed to accept that she needed the help.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarser than she would have liked.

“We can deal with that once you’re safely back indoors.”

Only now did Elspeth see the semi-frozen river. “I don’t remember that. Did...?” She looked questioningly at Jack. The man laughed, just glad to see she was still alive.

“That is entirely my doing. I’m afraid you passed over at some point during your wanderings and in order to get to you, I had to follow suit. It seems that I am significantly heavier than you, though. Now the only problem is finding our way back.”

Elsie looked down to the phone that was still ringing out with the tinny tune of Jingle Bells. “Um, what about that?”

“Oh, that... That is just a method that Baron employed to make finding you a little easier. I suppose it is no longer needed now.” He bent down to pick up the phone and shouted down the line. There was the sound of fumbling at the other end and abruptly the song ended.

“ _Jack? What are you doing with Elsie’s phone? Have you found her?_ ” Haru asked worriedly from the other end.

Jack looked to the artist he was supporting with one arm. “Yes, I’ve found Elsie. She is, at the moment, safe and conscious. We will be making our way back to the town hall.”

“ _Great! I’ll contact some of the other people out looking for her, and tell them to come back. We don’t want any more people getting lost, do we?_ ”

“No.” There was a tugging at Jack’s elbow. “Alright, Haru; we’ll see you back at the hall. I don’t think Elsie wants to stay out here for much longer.”

“ _Okay. Hurry back; it looks pretty bad out there_.” There was a click as Haru hung up.

Jack looked over at Elsie, who was still tugging at his sleeve. He was mildly surprised to see a blank expression of shock covering the young woman’s usually placid face. She was staring out across the river.

“Is everything alright?”

Elsie opened and closed her mouth, but no words came out. Eventually Jack turned his gaze to the river that was so absorbing the woman’s attention. He saw instantly what had caused Elsie to start.

The unmistakable form of Father Winter was standing on the opposite bank, snowy staff still in hand and smiling widely at the pair. There was nothing in his appearance that made it so obvious that the form was more than just a thickly-dressed man, but there was an innate sense that told her that this man – thing – was not human.

“Frost, do you need some help getting back?” he boomed. His voice carried clearer across the stormy conditions better than any mortal voice would have been able to.

“Yes please! And some alterations in the weather wouldn’t go amiss either!” Jack called back.

The spirit chuckled. “Alright.” He tapped his staff against the snowy ground and already the storm began to subside into a gentle flurry of snow. He tapped again and he disappeared to reappear at the edge of the river; at the rim where it was still frozen. A third tap on the ground, this time on the frozen river, and ice raced from the tip of his staff across the river to form an icy causeway.

Jack started down onto the newly-formed path, but felt Elsie hesitate. He turned back and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “Don’t be frightened. It’s safe. Father Winter is surprisingly soft-hearted.”

“I guess you weren’t kidding about the Jack Frost thing then?” she whispered back.

Jack smiled back. “No.”

“And I thought...”

“You were perfectly justified in your beliefs. It just so happened that you were wrong.”

Elsie smiled hesitantly, but allowed Jack to lead her across the river. She looked up at the rather intimidating form of Father Winter and gulped. Bringing herself back together, she performed a hasty bow. “Sir, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you too.” Father Winter’s smile widened; his deep-set eyes sparkling like icicles. “I was hoping to meet the human who had stolen away Jack’s frozen heart, and I must say you have proven yourself worthy many times over.”

“I... Well, thank you...” Elsie glanced to Jack a little nervously. “Perhaps you could point us in the right direction?” she timidly asked the winter spirit.

“Certainly. Head for those trees and keep going in that direction. That should bring you straight back to the mansion.”

“Thank you.”

They started off, Elsie still glancing a few times back to Father Winter with a slightly incredulously stare, but Jack abruptly stopped. He turned to the spirit. “What about the Creation?” he queried.

“What _about_ the Creation?”

“Creation?” Elsie echoed. She was starting to question how limited her own knowledge was.

“He and Haru have become... very close in the last month,” Jack said slowly to Winter, gesturing to Elsie that he would explain later. He measured Father Winter with a calculating gaze. “The assumption was that he would remain human as long as he was needed to be and now that time has come to an end. Surely you are not going to tear the two of them apart just when they have finally stopped dancing around the issue?”

Father Winter gave a loud, wintery laugh. “Oh, Jack; you said yourself that I have become soft in the passing years. What more to me is one more moment of softness? Anyway,” he added with a sly smile, “the permanency of his humanity was never really in my power.” The spirit looked at Jack with a glint of knowing cunning in his eyes. “And neither was yours.”


	25. Sunday 25th December 2011

_Open your eyes on Saviour's Day_

_Don't look back or turn away_

_Life can be yours if you'll only stay;_

_He is calling you, calling you_

_On the Saviour's Day_

_x_

Sunday 25th December 2011: Only Stay

With the weak winter sunlight filtering slowly through the thinning red curtains, Baron gradually opened his eyes. Morning. He blinked, closed his eyes for another few seconds, and slowly got to his feet.

The main room of the town hall was littered with the sleeping forms of people curled up inside sleeping bags and blankets. There were bedrooms that could have been taken, but people felt more comfortable with the lull of other life around them. Despite the soft sunlight drifting from behind the curtain, many people still appeared to be wrapped up in the thrall of sleep. Noting this, Baron made his progress out of the room as quiet as possible.

In spite of the building’s ancestral history, the council had made several adjustments to bring the town hall up to modern day; with electric lights, an up-to-date kitchen and a thankfully modern bathroom. It was to the bathroom that he headed to, to change into some day clothes. That done, he looked over his reflection in the mirror nailed above the basin.

“Well,” he noted to himself, “I’m still human.”

He ran one hand along his jaw line which was also very definitely human. It also needed a shave.

“It seems I will need to organise some new accommodation then.”

He looked up past his reflection to the window situated to the right of the mirror. The storm had subsided significantly since yesterday, and the trek back to the Yoshioka home would surely be manageable by midday, if it wasn’t already. Bringing his hand up to the window, he tugged the curtain away from the glass to reveal more of the weather outside.

Yes, only a few gentle snowflakes were pattering down against the window now and the ice wasn’t even that bad. It was certainly clear enough to give him a sharp picture of the world outside. Baron moved to let the curtain drop back over the window, but movement outside caught his eye. He stayed, frozen, for a few seconds longer, before he was absolutely certain that what he was seeing was not some hallucination or trick of the snow.

Rushing out, he snagged the wellington boots that Hiromi had lent him – and which he seemed to have acquired permanently, if the past few days were any indication – and slipped the black coat around his shoulders before letting himself out of the mansion.

“Ah, Baron; so glad you could make it.”

The once-Creation pulled his jacket around him instinctively and walked over to the seasonal spirit. He gave a respectful bow. “Morning, Your Lordship.”

Father Winter chuckled. “Come, come, Baron; I think you have been enough help for the titles to be forsaken. “Winter” will do fine, thank you very much. I take it there was a matter you wished to discuss?”

“Yes... Winter.”

The spirit gave a knowing smile. “I suppose it is over the matter of your continued humanity?”

“Yes. I thought–”

“You thought that as soon as this assignment was over, you would return to your previous Creation state?”

Baron nodded.

“Now, when did I ever say that? In fact, did I ever talk to you concerning your apparent change? If you remember correctly, there was no warning or debate concerning the issue.”

Yes, Baron remembered. He wished Father Winter had given some warning though; it was a shock to exit the Bureau and find oneself growing like Alice in Wonderland and suddenly unable to occupy one’s long-standing home. “You said to Jack yesterday...” he started slowly.

“That the humanity of the pair of you was never in my power, yes,” Father Winter finished. “What of it?”

“Sure you must have had some influence over the matter? For you are the one who changed us in the first place,” the ex-Creation pointed out.

“Ah, now that is the beauty of magic.” That same grin – the one that enabled people to see why he could have been mistake for an alteration of Father Christmas – rose to the spirit’s face. “Let me educate you on the particular spell you and Jack Frost were under. The caster sets the change going, but how far it goes depends on the individual’s under the spell. Only you can decide how permanent it will be. Every time you experienced a human emotion or understood humanity that little bit better, you yourself became more human. That is why the change from spirit to human took longer for Jack than your change from Creation to human. Your love for the human girl made the transformation almost instantaneous. Jack’s transformation was...” Father Winter tilted his head in a curious shrugging fashion. “Well, he thought he loved the human artist when he first started out, but his love was more superficial. He had to learn to love her for who she was instead of who he saw. He learnt that and, in doing so, made himself human. Does that answer your queries?”

“Yes.” Baron scrolled over the information he had just received; applying it to all the slight discrepancies between him and Jack that had failed to make sense. It would explain his abrupt lack of magic compared to Jack’s slowly fading magic. It would also explain why Jack’s resistance to cold had remained for a period before he began to need extra layers on; Baron remembered this with particular focus on his and Jack’s first meeting.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask while I am here?”

Baron paused, thinking over the past month’s various mishaps and adventures. “Yes,” he eventually said. He looked up to meet the winter spirit’s sharp, but humorous, gaze. “You made the river melt yesterday, didn’t you?”

“So you finally realise the truth.” Father Winter gave that same uncannily warm laugh.

“Why?”

“Why, my dear Baron? Because I needed to see how deep Jack’s affections ran for the human. He has come far in the last month, but did he love her enough to risk his life? That is what I wanted to test. I got my answer. And so did the human artist.”

“Did you really reveal yourself to her?”

“I revealed myself to your human, did I not?”

Baron blushed at the reference to Haru as _his_ human.

“Anyway, it will make life simpler if they can be truthful with one another. Miss Elspeth Moroz must come to terms with the truth of Jack’s past if she is to love and accept all of him. But now, Baron, I must be on my way.”

“Wait. So, my humanity...”

Again, the spirit chuckled, but it was a more refined chuckle this time. “It is, and always has been, your choice. And now you have a decision to make; you can either reject your newfound humanity and return to the Creation you once were or you can embrace it.”

Baron considered this, although there was no competition, and then murmured, “Thank you.”

“Thank me? Why thank me?” He grinned at the once-Creation. “It was your love for the human girl that made yourself human. Love is more powerful than people will often give it credit for.” He began to leave, but Baron had one more query to add before the winter spirit disappeared – and probably for good.

“Please, just one more question,” Baron implored. “Your knowledge of humanity... it stems far deeper than what is to be expected from an observer; even an observer who has seen the rise of humans from their simian counterparts to what they are now. I have seen Jack’s understanding of humanity grow throughout this month, but at the start he had little knowledge of human emotions, while yours... it runs as deep as any human’s...”

For the first time since he had met the winter spirit, a sorrowful smile passed over Father Winter’s bearded face. “Jack Frost is not the first spirit to fall for a human,” he said quietly. “But not all stories share his ending.” Abruptly, the sorrowful air disappeared and it was the Father Christmas counterpart who was beaming at Baron. “But now I must go. There is a snowstorm due at Alaska, and it won’t get done by itself! Merry Christmas!”

Baron was still smiling gently when Father Winter disappeared in his usual flurry of snow. “Merry Christmas to you too, Winter.”

ooOoo

“What have you got there?”

“Gingerbread tea.” Baron laughed when Haru visibly shied away. “Do not worry; I have learnt my lesson. There is no overdose in this blend, trust me.”

Haru still warily eyed the cup being presented to her. It seemed the last attempt was still perfectly clear in her mind. “You try yours first.”

“So little faith.”

“Nah, I just decided that my taste buds don’t deserve to be punished.”

“Very droll.” Baron lifted his own mug to his lips and took a neat sip. A light furrow buried itself into his brow before clearing with a mild air of surprise.

“Still too much ginger?” Haru offered.

“No. In fact... that is one of my best blends, if I say so myself.”

“You’re surprised that your blend came out right?” Haru reiterated. “You know, unsurprisingly, that doesn’t overfill me with confidence...”

“I see your humour reaches new levels of cynicism around me. Have you always been this comical or have I just missed the signs?”

“If it helps, I think it’s rubbing off on you.”

“Heaven forbid. Now, Miss Haru, are you going to try that tea, or will I have to make a new batch because you’ve let the current one go cold.”

Haru rolled her eyes and tentatively took a sip. Her expression followed Baron’s cue. “That... actually is a pretty decent cup of tea. Although it could do with being topped with whipped cream and some chocolate shavings.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Sure I can! _Everything_ tastes better with chocolate.”

“I hope you do not plan on testing that theory to the limits. Christmas dinner is a traditional meal and I doubt the unorthodox contribution of chocolate sauce to the turkey will be an appreciated addition.”

Haru grinned ruefully and leant against Baron, watching the snow slowly drift by the lounge window. The snow and frost had reduced enough that everyone had been able to head back to their homes in good spirits and with many a ‘Merry Christmas’ shouted across the building. Haru and Naoko and Baron had been able to return to the Yoshioka residence, although Naoko had headed over to the Yui sister’s home with a few other neighbours to ensure that everything was once again in working order.

“How do you think things will work out between Jack and Elsie?” Haru murmured, her eyes still watching the Christmas snow float gently down outside.

“I think... I think everything will work out just fine,” Baron replied. “Now Elsie knows the full truth of Jack’s past, she will know what to help him with. She’s a level-headed individual with a sensible head on her shoulders; she will deal with things as they come. And Jack cares a great deal for Elsie, so he will certainly make an effort to fit into a human life. Did you know that Jack has never seen summer?”

Haru grinned. “He’s going to be in for a shock. Can you imagine how he’s going to react to the abundance of flowers? And the warm sunshine?”

“I imagine there are going to be a few entertaining moments along the way.”

Haru sighed and leant her head on Baron’s shoulder. “What about us, Baron?” she whispered. “You can’t stay here indefinitely, even if my mother does approve of you.”

“I have been researching the concept of renting over the past week and a colleague at work offered to let me share the rent of his residence until I gain a more permanent job.”

Haru laughed.

“What? Is there something amiss?”

“No. I just never thought I’d hear you use the phrase, ‘colleague at work’ and not be referring to the Bureau. How are Toto and Muta going to handle all this?”

“Well, my colleague is not against the idea of me moving in with a feline, so I thought perhaps that Muta could be... adopted by me. But it will be his choice. As for Toto...” Baron seemed a little lost. “I am not sure. Toto’s lifespan now far excels my own and there will come a time when the rest of us will be gone and he remains. But I believe he plans to stay around the area for a good period yet, staying at the Sanctuary.”

“So the Cat Bureau...”

“I am afraid it will most likely be disbanded, yes. Do not look so sad, Haru,” Baron comforted quietly. “All things have their time, as does the Bureau. The Sanctuary is filled with Creation magic, so it may attract new Creations to it, like it attracted Toto and I. Perhaps in time the Bureau will once again be used and new clients will once again brighten up the Bureau’s doors. But that is no longer our concern.”

Baron paused, looking down at the brunette – his brunette – before following her gaze and looking out at the winter wonderland outside.

“I thought for a period about setting up a tea shop, you know,” he remarked after a moment. “I thought that if I was going to have a go at this human life malarkey, I should at least take a job that I would enjoy. The toyshop is fun, but perhaps one day...”

“That would be good.” Haru looked up at Baron. “I could imagine you doing that. But, you know what?” She smiled. “Whatever happens, I’m sure we’ll manage just fine. As long as we’re together, I just know everything will be just great.” She sighed and looked out at the window. “Just great.”

“I believe you’re right, Haru. I believe you’re completely right. However, I think we are forgetting something.”  At Haru’s questioning gaze, he grinned and added, “Here we are, with the Christmas dinner in the oven, all the house decorated, and not a single present in sight.”

Haru’s eyes lit up. “Oh my, after all the excitement, I completely forget that I had your present upstairs. I’ll go get it!” She jumped to her feet and hurried to the floor above. Chuckling good-naturedly to himself, Baron fished out his present from its hiding place behind a cupboard. With only the sofa as his sleeping place, he hadn’t had any personal space to put it to the side without being seen, unless he hid it away.

Haru quickly returned downstairs, holding a strangely shaped piece of wrapping paper. It was paper-thin – for a moment Baron wondered whether she had merely taken a piece of cardboard and wrapped it up, but discarded the thought.

“Heh, I suppose the present is a little redundant now,” she murmured shyly. “You know, because I thought you would be returning to the Bureau as a Creation and everything, so I tried to think of something that you could keep in the Bureau.” She looked a little sheepish. “Of course, I was kind of hoping that Father Winter would be so kind as to shrink it down to size when he changed you back but...” She reddened and hastily passed the present to Baron. “Merry Christmas.”

“I’m sure I will love it, whatever it is.”

“You can’t say that before you’ve even opened it.”

“But I’m sure I will love it.”

“Just open it,” Haru mumbled.

He grinned and neatly slit the cello tape open, unfolding the paper with organised precision. What slipped out was a paper casing for a record – unsurprisingly with a record inside. He brought it out to see it wasn’t labelled on the casing, but the record inside had the title ‘Every Time It Snows’  written in lilting calligraphy.

“It’s a recording of our song,” Haru murmured, still reddening a little. “Hiromi was, um, apparently recording our duet without telling us. I know you have a record player in the Bureau, so I got a friend who still has some old record equipment to burn – or whatever the technical term is for records – the song onto a plain record. Um,” she repeated, still looking rather shy and started to gabble, “I know it’s a little redundant now, since you’re not going back to the Bureau and all, and you probably won’t have a record player at the new place you’re staying at so there’s no way you will be able to listen to it and...” She was cut off as Baron covered her lips with a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect,” he reassured when he ended the kiss. “Do you have a record player here?”

Haru still had to get used to his signs of affection, and right now the kiss had muddled her mind a little. “Uh... Yes, it’s in...”

“The back room,” they chorused. Baron grinned.

“I’ll fetch it.”

“You don’t even know where it is in the room!” Haru called as Baron made his way out the door.

“I know what a record player looks like, Miss Haru,” he assured. “Anyway, seeing the mess of your back room, I doubt you have any more idea than I do about the exact whereabouts.”

“Fair enough.”

Waiting for her companion to return, Haru took a peek at Baron’s presents to her. There were two; one a regular box shape, while the other was a rectangular book shape with the narrowing end. She fugitively prodded the strangely book-shaped present, finding it to be slightly padded, but still bearing the book-outline.

“Would you mind waiting until I have brought the record player in at least?” Baron arrived with the music player and gently set it down on the coffee table, quickly fitting the plug into a socket at the side. “In my day, you originally had to power gramophones by winding them up,” he commented. “I must say, the use of electricity makes it a lot easier.”

“Does the gramophone at the Bureau require being wound up?”

“Originally.” Baron was checking the record player for any signs of decay; carefully testing the needle and flicking a few switches lower down. “Although, we quickly found that magic works as well as electricity.” He picked the record from the side and set it carefully on the top, carefully setting the needle at the edge of the disk. For several seconds there was only the mumbling of the background sounds of the Crossroads, and then a violin started to play. The violin intro was longer than expected and somewhat disjointed, but then it cut off entirely. After a few moments, it started up again, and this time Haru’s voice came in.

The brunette reddened. “I thought it might be a nice memory for you, but it’s still embarrassing,” she murmured.

“I think you sound beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I really do believe that.” He hugged her and passed her the two wrapped presents from him. “Merry Christmas, Haru.”

Haru picked at the cube-shaped present first, attempting to get the cello tape to relinquish its hold on the wrapping paper. After several tears in the paper, she went to fetch the scissors. “Darn it, Baron; you wrapped this way too well.”

“Am I expected to apologise for that?”

“No.” Haru now had opened up one side of the present, to find a blue box with a picture of a dinosaur on the front. She stared over at Baron. “What’s this?”

“It’s to fuel your... now, what was the term again? Ah yes... Your ‘dino mad’ streak,” Baron explained with a mischievous grin. “It’s an alarm clock too, so perhaps it’ll actually get you up in the morning.”

“Are you saying that I’m always late up?”

Baron paused, evidently deliberating how much his life would be worth if he was outright truthful with his answer. “Can I pass? Anyway,” he quickly added, “you have another present to open.”

“Smooth way to move the conversation on. I’ll have you know I already have an alarm clock.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so sceptical.” Haru picked up the remaining present lying beside the record player, weighing it up in her hands. “Well, I’d say this is a book, but it isn’t quite right...” She attempted to get into it with just her hands and quickly resorted to the scissors once again. “You need to wrap your presents less well,” she grumbled.

“Just open it.”

She did so, and a photo album slipped into her lap. “You didn’t...” She flicked it open to find photos of the past month stuck or slipped neatly to each page.

“Your friend was taking quite a few photos, so I merely took advantage of the situation. Anyway,” he said, a tad quieter, “when I was unaware of my continuing human status, I thought that this may bring back a few memories of my time as human. Although it appears now we will be able to fill the remaining pages together.”

Haru turned the pages, finding pictures that she didn’t even know had been taken. There was one from that day in the toyshop, although it was a little blurry, so Haru guessed that Hiromi had taken it with her phone, but it was definitely Haru and Baron at the dinosaur section of the toyshop, in animated discussion.

“And I thought she hadn’t realised you had turned up again,” Haru muttered to herself. “Sly dog.”

There were a few photos from the ice-sculpting fair, still a little blurry and probably still being sneaky photos from Hiromi’s camera. Haru turned a few more pages and found a couple that Hiromi hadn’t taken – one being a photo of not only Haru and Baron, but also Elsie and Jack, at the employee’s party at the conference hall. It looked like Jack had just spilt Elsie’s drink across the floor.

“How did you get that photo?”

“There was a photographer for the party; Elsie was kind enough to give me his details.”

Haru turned the page and found several of their visit to the Christmas Market; by this point, Haru was starting to question how much time Hiromi had spent slyly snatching photos. There was even one of the poor entertainer with his feet iced to the pedestal, with a following one with Haru and Baron pouring mulled wine over his shoes. She started turning the pages quicker now; there were photos of her and Baron’s solo, of the carol books and electric lanterns, of their rather entertaining ice-skating attempts, of Jack’s even more entertaining attempt at flower arranging (Elsie must have been the one taking photos on the sly there), of a bowl of their homemade lebkuchen, of the pair of them playing chess (this must have been Jack’s turn to take photos), of that infamous photo of the four of them with their faces painted...

“It was quite entertaining to get all the photos together without you suspecting anything,” Baron admitted.

“Was everyone aware of this apart from me?”

Baron tilted his head thoughtfully. “Pretty much.”

“Even Muta and Toto?”

“Yes.”

Haru grinned. “You got Muta and Toto to agree to something? What is the world coming to?”

Baron grinned alongside her. “I know. So, do you like it?”

“Like it? It’s amazing! You must have taken ages to get all the photos together and find all the photos and print them off and everything else...”

“It was... a little challenging at times,” Baron conservatively confessed. He turned a few pages until he came to an empty one. “There are spaces still to fill, so there is room for new memories to be made. The story doesn’t end there.”

“It’s great, Baron; it’s really great.” She hugged him, grinning when she felt his arms return the embrace. Like she had told Baron, somehow she just knew everything would turn out just fine. As long as they faced the world together, they would be able to make it through the rainiest day.

Haru spared a glance to the window where the snow could still be seen to be falling. She spared a thought also for the winter spirit who had made all this possible and sent a silent word of thanks to whoever might be listening. She leant into Baron’s embrace, still unable to quite believe how her life had been turned upside down, righted and turned out so perfect.

But then, it _was_ Christmas. And, as a good friend had pointed out to Haru, if miracles can happen, they’ll happen at Christmas.

She closed her eyes happily. She supposed there was only one thing left to say.

“God bless us, every one!”


End file.
